He nodded.
Mr. Pendleton lived in a house! That was a wonderful thing to her. She had almost forgotten that any one lived in whole houses any more. She was eager to hear more. So, when the next train came along she stepped into it, and he followed, although she had not intended to allow this.
"I wish you would tell me about your house," she said wistfully.
So, on the way uptown, he tried to describe it to her. He told her where it was, and that quite took away her breath; and how his father had bought it; and how many rooms there were; and how it was furnished; and, finally, how he came to be living in it himself on a salary of twenty-five dollars a week. As she listened her eyes grew round and full.
"My, but you"re lucky!" she exclaimed. "I should think you"d want to spend there every minute you could get."
"Why?" he asked in surprise.
"Just because it"s your house," she answered. "Just because it"s all your own."
"I don"t see it," he answered.
"And what do _you_ want of ten thousand a year?" she demanded. "You can live like a king on what you"re drawing now."
"You don"t mean that?" he asked.
"I don"t mean you ought to give up trying for the big jobs," she said quickly. "You ought to try all the harder for those, because that"s all that"s left for you to try for. With everything else provided, you ought to make a name for yourself. Why, you"re free to work for nothing else."
"On twenty-five dollars a week?"
"And a house that"s all your own. With a roof over your head no one can take away, and heat and light--why, it"s a fortune and your twenty-five so much extra."
"Well, I have to eat," he observed.
"Yes, you have to eat."
"And wear clothes."
She was doing that and paying her rent out of fifteen.
"I don"t see what you do with all your money," she answered.
At this point she stepped out of the train, and he followed her. She went down the stairs to the street, and he continued to follow. She was on her way to the delicatessen store to buy her provisions for the night and Sunday. Apparently it was his intention to go there with her. At the door of the little shop she stopped.
"I"m going in here," she informed him, as if that concluded the interview.
He merely nodded and opened the door for her. She was beginning to be worried. At this rate there was no knowing but what he might follow her right home.
"I"m going to buy my provisions for to-morrow," she further informed him.
"I suppose I must get something too," he answered. "Can"t I buy it here?"
"It"s a public place," she admitted.
"Then come on."
So they entered together, and Hans greeted them both with a smile, as if this were the most natural thing in the world. But Miss Winthrop herself was decidedly embarra.s.sed. This seemed a very intimate business to be sharing with a man. On the other hand, she did not propose to have her plans put out by a man. So she ordered half a pound of b.u.t.ter and a jar of milk and some cheese and some cold roast and potato salad for that night and a lamb chop for Sunday, and one or two other little things, the whole coming to eighty-five cents.
"Now," he asked, when she had concluded, "what do you think _I"d_ better order?"
Her cheeks were flushed, and she knew it.
"I"m sure I don"t know," she answered.
He saw some eggs.
"I might as well have a dozen eggs to start with," he began.
"Is there only yourself?" she inquired.
"Yes," he answered.
"Then I should think a half-dozen would do."
"A half-dozen," he corrected the order.
Then he thought of chops.
"A pound or two of chops," he ordered.
"If you have eggs for breakfast, you will need chops only for dinner.
Two chops will be enough."
Before she was through she had done practically all his ordering for him,--because she could not bear to see waste,--and the total came to about one half what it usually cost him. He thought there must be some mistake, and insisted that Hans make a second reckoning. The total was the same.
"I shall trade with you altogether after this," he informed the pleased proprietor.
There were several packages, but Hans bound them together into two rather large-sized ones. With one of these in each hand, Don came out upon the street with Miss Winthrop.
"I"m going home now," she announced.
"There you are again!" he exclaimed.
"But I must."
"I suppose you think I ought to go home."
"Certainly."
"Look here--doesn"t it seem sort of foolish to prepare two lunches in two different places. Doesn"t it seem rather wasteful?"
Offhand, it did. And yet there was something wrong with that argument somewhere.
"It may be wasteful, but it"s necessary," she replied.
"Now, is it?" he asked. "Why can"t we go downtown somewhere and lunch together?"