"The ships are burned,"said March,"though I'm not sure we alone did it.But here we are,looking for shelter,and a little anxious about the disposition of the natives.""Oh,they're an awful peaceable lot,"said Fulkerson."I've been round among the caciques a little,and I think I've got two or three places that will just suit you,Mrs.March.How did you leave the children?""Oh,how kind of you!Very well,and very proud to be left in charge of the smoking wrecks."Fulkerson naturally paid no attention to what she said,being but secondarily interested in the children at the best."Here are some things right in this neighborhood,within gunshot of the office,and if you want you can go and look at them to-night;the agents gave me houses where the people would be in.""We will go and look at them instantly,"said Mrs.March."Or,as soon as you've had coffee with us.""Never do,"Fulkerson replied.He gathered up his hat and stick."Just rushed in to say Hello,and got to run right away again.I tell you,March,things are humming.I'm after those fellows with a sharp stick all the while to keep them from loafing on my house,and at the same time I'm just bubbling over with ideas about 'The Lone Hand--wish we could call it that!--that I want to talk up with you.""Well,come to breakfast,"said Mrs.March,cordially.
"No;the ideas will keep till you've secured your lodge in this vast wilderness.Good-bye.""You're as nice as you can be,Mr.Fulkerson,"she said,"to keep us in mind when you have so much to occupy you.""I wouldn't have anything to occupy me if I hadn't kept you in mind,Mrs.
March,"said Fulkerson,going off upon as good a speech as he could apparently hope to make.
"Why,Basil,"said Mrs.March,when he was gone,"he's charming!.
But now we mustn't lose an instant.Let's see where the places are."She ran over the half-dozen agents'permits."Capital-first-rate-the very thing-every one.Well,I consider ourselves settled!We can go back to the children to-morrow if we like,though I rather think I should like to stay over another day and get a little rested for the final pulling up that's got to come.But this simplifies everything enormously,and Mr.Fulkerson is as thoughtful and as sweet as he can be.
I know you will get on well with him.He has such a good heart.And his attitude toward you,Basil,is beautiful always--so respectful;or not that so much as appreciative.Yes,appreciative--that's the word;I must always keep that in mind.""It's quite important to do so,"said March.
"Yes,"she assented,seriously,"and we must not forget just what kind of flat we are going to look for.The 'sine qua nons'are an elevator and steam heat,not above the third floor,to begin with.Then we must each have a room,and you must have your study and I must have my parlor;and the two girls must each have a room.With the kitchen and dining room,how many does that make?""Ten."
"I thought eight.Well,no matter.You can work in the parlor,and run into your bedroom when anybody comes;and I can sit in mine,and the girls must put up with one,if it's large and sunny,though I've always given them two at home.And the kitchen must be sunny,so they can sit in it.And the rooms must all have outside light.Aud the rent must not be over eight hundred for the winter.We only get a thousand for our whole house,and we must save something out of that,so as to cover the expenses of moving.Now,do you think you can remember all that?""Not the half of it,"said March."But you can;or if you forget a third of it,I can come in with my partial half and more than make it up."She had brought her bonnet and sacque down-stairs with her,and was transferring them from the hatrack to her person while she talked.The friendly door-boy let them into the street,and the clear October evening air brightened her so that as she tucked her hand under her husband's arm and began to pull him along she said,"If we find something right away--and we're just as likely to get the right flat soon as late;it's all a lottery--well go to the theatre somewhere."She had a moment's panic about having left the agents'permits on the table,and after remembering that she had put them into her little shopping-bag,where she kept her money (each note crushed into a round wad),and had heft it on the hat-rack,where it would certainly be stolen,she found it on her wrist.She did not think that very funny;but after a first impulse to inculpate her husband,she let him laugh,while they stopped under a lamp and she held the permits half a yard away to read the numbers on them.
"Where are your glasses,Isabel?"
"On the mantel in our room,of course."
"Then you ought to have brought a pair of tongs.""I wouldn't get off second-hand jokes,Basil,"she said;and "Why,here!"she cried,whirling round to the door before which they had halted,"this is the very number.Well,I do believe it's a sign!"One of those colored men who soften the trade of janitor in many of the smaller apartment-houses in New York by the sweetness of their race let the Marches in,or,rather,welcomed them to the possession of the premises by the bow with which he acknowledged their permit.It was a large,old mansion cut up into five or six dwellings,but it had kept some traits of its former dignity,which pleased people of their sympathetic tastes.The dark-mahogany trim,of sufficiently ugly design,gave a rich gloom to the hallway,which was wide and paved with marble;the carpeted stairs curved aloft through a generous space.
"There is no elevator?"Mrs.March asked of the janitor.
He answered,"No,ma'am;only two flights up,"so winningly that she said,"Oh!"in courteous apology,and whispered to her husband,as she followed lightly up,"We'll take it,Basil,if it's like the rest.""If it's like him,you mean."
"I don't wonder they wanted to own them,"she hurriedly philosophized.
"If I had such a creature,nothing but death should part us,and I should no more think of giving him his *******!""No;we couldn't afford it,"returned her husband.
