The kitchen was in an L; there were two windows looking out upon a bricked yard.  Bel Bree kept the points of the compass in her head.

“Those are south windows,” said she.  “We can have plants in them.  And it’s real nice their opening out on a level.”

Forward, the house ran underground.  They used the front basement for a store-room.  Above the kitchen, in the L, was the dining-room.  A short, separate flight of stairs led to it; also a dumb waiter ran up and down between china closet and kitchen pantry.  Both kitchen and dining-room were small; the L had only the width of the hall and the additional space to where the first window opened in the western wall.

In one corner of the kitchen were set tubs; a long cover slid over them, and formed a sideboard.  Opposite, beside the fire-place, were sink and boiler; between the windows, a white-topped table.  There were four dark painted wooden chairs.  A clock over the table, and a rolling-towel beside the sink; green Holland window-shades; these were the only adornments and drapery.  There was a closet at each end of the room.

“Will you go up to your room now, or wait till after tea?” asked Mrs. Scherman.

“We might take up our things, now,” said Bel, looking round at the four chairs.  “They would be in the way here, perhaps.”

Kate took up her bag from the table.

“We can find the room,” she said, “if you will direct us.”

“Up three flights; two from the dining-room; the back chamber.  You can stop at my room as you come down, and we will think about tea.  Mr. Scherman will soon be home; and I should like to surprise him with something very comfortable.”

The girls found their way up-stairs.

The room, when they reached it, looked pleasant, though bare.  The sun had gone below the horizon, beyond the river which they could not see; but the western light still shone in across the roofs.  There were window-seats in the two windows, uncushioned.  A square of clean, but faded carpet was laid down before the bed and reached to the table,—­simple maple-stained pine, uncovered,—­that stood beneath a looking-glass in a maple frame, between the windows.  There were three maple-stained chairs in the room.  A door into a good, deep closet stood open; there was a low grate in the chimney, unused of course, with no fire-irons about it, and some scraps of refuse thrown into it and left there; this was the only actual untidiness about the room, where there was not the first touch of cosiness or comfort.  The only depth of color was in a heavy woven dark-blue and white counterpane upon the bed.

“Now, Kate Sencerbox, shut up!” said Bel Bree, turning round upon her, after the first comprehensive glance, as Kate came in last, and closed the door.

Kate put her muff down on the bed, folded her hands meekly, and looked at Bel with a mischievous air that said plainly enough “Ain’t I?” and which she would not falsify by speech.