A door at one side of the fireplace led into a tiny kitchen whose windows looked out into oak branches; and another door, on the other side, gave access to a little cement-floored bathroom with a shower, and two small bedrooms, each with two beds built in tiers like bunks.  This was Richie’s whole domain, and whether it was really saturated with the care-free atmosphere of childhood, and fragrant with the good breath of the countryside all about it, or whether Julia only imagined it to be so, she found it perfect, and was never so happy in these days as when she and Anna were there.  She was always busy, and satisfied in her work, but there were needs of heart and mind that her own people could not meet, and when these rose strong within her she found no company as bracing and as welcome as Richard’s.

“No Aunt Sanna?” said she cheerfully, when she had taken off her hat and the small girl’s, and was in her favourite chair by the fire.

“No, darn it!” said Richie, struggling with a refractory lamp wick.

“Oh, don’t be so blue, Rich!  She’ll be here on the seven.”

“No, she won’t—­she said the four—­I expected to find her here,” Richie said, settling the glass chimney into place, as the light crept round the wick.  A little odour of hot kerosene floated on the air, and was lost in other odours from the kitchen, where a Chinese boy was padding about in the poor light of one lamp.  He began to come and go, setting the table, the ecstatic Anna at his heels.  Whenever the outer door was opened, a cool rush of sweet country air came in.  Richie began to stamp back and forth with great logs for the fireplace.

“Wonderful what millions of miles away from every one we seem, Rich!” Julia said contentedly.  “Was there ever anything like the quiet of this mountain?”

“I’m terribly sorry about Aunt Sanna,” Richie said.  “I feel like an ass—­getting you way up here!”

“Why, my dear boy, it’s not your fault!” Julia said, round eyed.

“She said she would positively be here,” Richie pursued.  “I suppose there’s no earthly reason—–­” he added uncomfortably.

“Why you and I shouldn’t stay here alone?  I should hope not!” Julia reassured him roundly.  “And she may come on the seven, anyway!”

“These are the times I wish I had a telephone,” said Richie.

“Aw leddy,” contributed the Chinese boy.  They took their places at the table, and dinner was eaten by the light of the lamp.  But after dinner, when Julia had tucked Anna into bed, she came back and put out the lamp.  She lighted two candles on the mantelpiece that sent a brave flicker over the dull walls and up to the ceiling.

“There!” said she, with an energetic stirring of the fire, as she took her chair again, “that’s the way I like this room to look!”