HOME.

That evening George wrote a letter to Dr. Jeffries at Croydon, saying that he had taken a little house for his mother to come to when she came out of the infirmary, and as he had kindly said that he would render her help if he could, would he be good enough to write to the agent whose address he gave, saying that Mrs. Andrews, who was about taking No. 8 Laburnum Villas, was a person of respectability.

The following evening he received a letter from the doctor saying that he had written to the agent, and that he was glad indeed to hear that George was getting on so well that he was able to provide a home for his mother.

On Wednesday at dinner-time Mrs. Grimstone handed George a key.

"There you are, George. You are master of the house now. The agent said the reference was most satisfactory; so I paid him the seven and sixpence you gave me for a week's rent in advance, and you can go in when you like. We shall be sorry to lose you both, for I don't want two better lodgers. You don't give no trouble, and all has been quiet and pleasant in the house; and to think what a taking I was in that day as Bob brought you here for the first time, to think as he had let the room to two boys. But there, one never knows, and I wouldn't have believed it as boys could be so quiet in a house."

"Now we must begin to see about furniture," Bob Grimstone said. "The best plan, I think, will be for you two to go round of an evening to all the shops in the neighborhood, and mark off just what you think will suit you. You put down the prices stuck on them, and just what they are, and then the missis can go in the morning and bargain for them. She will get them five shillings in the pound cheaper than you would. It's wonderful how women do beat men down, to be sure. When a man hears what's the price of a thing he leaves it or takes it just as he likes, but a woman begins by offering half the sum. Then the chap says no, and she makes as if she was going away; he lets her go a little way and then he hollers after her, and comes down a goodish bit in the price. Then she says she don't particularly want it and shouldn't think of giving any such price as that. Then he tries again, and so they gets on till they hit on a figure as suits them both. You see that little tea-caddy in the corner? My wife was just three weeks buying that caddy. The chap wanted seven and six for it, and she offered him half a crown. He came down half a crown at the end of the first week, and at last she got it for three and nine. Now, the first thing you have got to do is to make out a list. First of all you have got to put down the things as you must have, and then the things you can do without, though you will get them if you can afford it. Mother will help you at that."

So Mrs. Grimstone and George sat down with paper and a pencil, and George was absolutely horrified at the list of things which Mrs.

Grimstone declared were absolutely indispensable. However, after much discussion, some few items were marked as doubtful. When the list was finished the two boys started on an exploring expedition, and the next week all their evenings were fully occupied. In ten days after they began the three bedrooms and the kitchen were really smartly furnished, Mrs. Grimstone proving a wonderful hand at bargaining, and making the ten pounds go farther than George had believed possible. On the Sunday Bob went with his wife and the boys to inspect the house.

"It's a very comfortable little place," he said, "and that front bedroom with the chintz curtains the missis made up is as nice a little room as you want to see. As to the others they will do well enough for you boys."

The only articles of furniture in the sitting room were two long muslin curtains, which Mrs. Grimstone had bought a bargain at a shop selling off; for it was agreed that this was necessary to give the house a furnished appearance. Bob Grimstone was so much pleased at what had been done that he shared George's feeling of regret that one of the sitting rooms could not also be furnished, and on the walk home said:

"Look here, George. I know you would like to have the house nice for your mother. You couldn't make one of those sitting rooms comfortable not under a five-pound note, not even with the missis to market for you, but you might for that. I have got a little money laid by in the savings-bank, and I will lend you five pounds, and welcome, if you like to take it. I know it will be just as safe with you as it will be there."

"Thank you very much, Bob--thank you very much, but I won't take it.

In the first place, I should like mother to know that the furniture is all ours, bought out of Bill's savings and mine; and in the next place, I should find it hard at first to pay back anything. I think we can just manage on our money, but that will be all. I told you mother does work, but she mayn't be able to get any at first, so we can't reckon on that. When she does, you know, we shall be able gradually to buy the furniture."

"Well, perhaps you are right, George," the man said after a pause.

"You would have been welcome to the money: but perhaps you are right not to take it. I borrowed a little money when I first went into housekeeping, and it took a wonderful trouble to pay off, and if there's illness or anything of that sort it weighs on you. Not that I should be in any hurry about it. It wouldn't worry me, but it would worry you."

A week later Mrs. Andrews was to leave the infirmary, and on Sat.u.r.day George asked for a day off to go down to fetch her. Every evening through the week he and Bill had worked away at digging up the garden.

Fortunately there was a moon, for it was dark by the time they came out from the works. Bill was charged with the commission to lay in the store of provisions for the Sunday, and he was to be sure to have a capital fire and tea ready by four o'clock, the hour at which George calculated he would be back.

Very delighted was George as in his best suit--for he and Bill had two suits each now--he stepped out of the train at Croydon and walked to the workhouse. His mother had told him that she would meet him at the gate at half-past two, and punctually at the time he was there. A few minutes later Mrs. Andrews came out, not dressed as he had seen her at Christmas, in the infirmary garb, but in her own clothes. George gave a cry of delight as he ran forward to meet her.

"My darling mother! and you are looking quite yourself again."

"I am, thank G.o.d, George. It has seemed a long nine months, but the rest and quiet have done wonders for me. Everyone has been very kind; and of course the knowledge, dear boy, that you had got work that you liked helped me to get strong again. And you are looking well too; and your friend, I hope he is well?"

"Quite well, mother, but in a great fright about you. He is glad you are coming because I am glad; but the poor fellow has quite made up his mind that you won't like him and you won't think him a fit companion for me. I told him over and over again that you are not that sort; but nothing can persuade him. Of course, mother, he doesn't talk good grammar, and he uses some queer expressions; but he is very much changed in that way since I first knew him, and he tries very hard, and don't mind a bit how often I correct him, and he is beginning to read easy words quite well; and he is one of the best-hearted fellows in the world."

"If he is kind to you, George, and fond of you, that's enough for me,"

Mrs. Andrews said; "but I have no doubt I shall soon like him for himself. You could not like him as much as you do if there were not something nice about him. And you have succeeded in getting a room for me in the house in which you lodge?" for George had never mentioned a word in his letter about taking a house, and had asked Dr. Jeffries if he should see his mother to say nothing to her about his application to him.

"Yes, that's all right, mother," he replied briskly.

"And you have got some new clothes since I saw you last, George. You wanted them; yours were getting rather shabby when I saw you at Christmas."

"Yes, mother, they were."

"I suppose you had to part with your best suit while you were so long out of work?"

"That was it, mother; but you see I have been able to get some more things. They are only cheap ones, you know, but they will do very well until I can afford better ones. I am not walking too fast for you, am I? But we shall just catch the train. Or look here, would you mind going straight by yourself to the railway station? Then you can walk slowly. I will go round and get your box. I went into our old place as I came along, and Mrs. Larkins said she would bring it downstairs for me as I came back."

"No, I would rather go round with you, George. I want to thank her for having kept it for me so long. Even if we do miss the train it will not matter much, as it will make no difference whether we get in town an hour earlier or later."

As George could not explain his special reason for desiring to catch that train he was obliged to agree, and they stopped a quarter of an hour at their old lodging, as Mrs. Larkins insisted upon their having a cup of tea which she had prepared for them. However, when they reached the station they found that a train was going shortly, and when they reached town they were not so very much later than George had calculated upon.

They took a cab, for although Mrs. Andrews' box was not heavy, it was too much for George to carry that distance; besides, Mrs. Andrews herself was tired from her walk to the station from the infirmary, having had no exercise for so long. When they got into the neighborhood of Limehouse George got outside to direct the cabman. It was just a quarter past four when the cab drew up at No. 8 Laburnum Villas.

"Why, is this the house?" Mrs. Andrews asked in surprise as George jumped down and opened the door. "Why, you told me in one of your letters it was a house in a row. What a pretty little place! It is really here, George?"

"It is here, mother; we moved the other day. There is Bill at the door;" but Bill, having opened the door, ran away out into the garden, and George, having paid the cabman, carried his mother's box in and entered the house with her.

"Straight on, mother, into the little room at the end."

"What a snug little kitchen!" Mrs. Andrews said as she entered it; "and tea all laid and ready! What, have they lent you the room for this evening?"

"My dear mother," George said, throwing his arms round her neck, "this is your kitchen and your house, all there is of it, only the sitting room isn't furnished yet. We must wait for that, you know."

"What! you have taken a whole house, my boy! that is very nice; but can we afford it, George? It seems too good to be true."

"It is quite true, mother, and I think it's a dear little house, and will be splendid when we have got it all furnished. Now come up and see the bedrooms. This is Bill's, you know," and he opened the door on the staircase, "and this is mine, and this is yours."

"Oh, what a pretty little room!" Mrs. Andrews said: "but, my dear George, the rent of this house and the hire of the furniture will surely be more than we can afford to pay. I know what a good manager you are, my boy, but I have such a horror of getting into debt that it almost frightens me."

"The rent of the house is seven and sixpence a week, mother, with rates and taxes, and we can afford that out of Bill's earnings and mine, even if you did not do any work at all; and as to the furniture, it is every bit paid for out of our savings since we went to work."

On hearing which Mrs. Andrews threw her arms round George's neck and burst into tears of happiness. She was not very strong, and the thought of the sacrifices these two boys must have made to get a house together for her completely overpowered her.

"It seems impossible, George," she said when she had recovered herself. "Why, you have only been earning ten shillings a week each, and you have had to keep yourselves and get clothes and all sorts of things; it seems impossible."

"It has not cost so much as you think, mother, and Bill and I had both learned to live cheap in Covent Garden; but now let us go downstairs; you have not seen Bill yet, and I know tea will be ready."

But Bill had not yet come in, and George had to go out into the garden to fetch him.

"Come on, Bill; mother is delighted with everything. She won't eat you, you know."

"No, she won't eat me, George; but she will think me an out-and-out sort of 'ottentot," which word had turned up in a book the boys had been reading on an evening previously.

"Well, wait till she says so; come along."

So linking his arm in Bill's, George drew him along, and brought him shamefaced and bashful into the kitchen.

"This is Bill, mother."

"I am glad to see you, Bill," Mrs. Andrews said, holding out her hand.

"I have heard so much of you from George that I seem to know you quite well."

Bill put his hand out shyly.