nally she departed, and Mr. Kaye sighed his relief.

"Well, Friend Adam is the youngest old person, and Gwendolyn Jones is
the oldest young person I ever saw," remarked Hallam, as he lighted his
mother's bedroom candle and bade her good night.

CHAPTER XII.

BAD NEWS FROM BURNSIDE.

"Yes, it is to be 'Charity House' now," said Salome Kaye, with that
quiet decision of hers which, as Amy described it, "Never makes any
fuss, and never wobbles."

"That's the best and the worst about mother. She never says 'yes' when
she means 'no,' and she never says either till it's all settled. I
remember how, when I was little, I used to ask, 'Is it decided?' and
when she answered, 'Yes, it's decided,' I gave up teasing. Mountains
might crush, but never move her."

"So it's 'Charity House' forever and a day. The trouble with you,
mother, is that all you say--or the little you say--always means
something. 'Charity House' is, I suppose, just as full of meaning as
everything else. Isn't it? Let me guess. It's 'Charity' because cousin
Archibald lets us live here for what he calls a 'starvation rent.'
That's the meanest kind of 'Charity,' and it's a lie, too."

"Hallam!"

"But, mother, it is. I've heard these people talk, and they all say that
the old curmudgeon--"

"Hallam, thee is proving that a 'Charity House' is the very sort of
home thee needed."

"Well, motherkin, it's true. He is curmudgeon-y. He's tried for years to
get a tenant for this property, and not even the mill folks would touch
it. He took advantage of us and made us think we were getting a great
deal for nothing."

"Are we not? Look about thee."

"Of course, it's big enough."

"What a curious place it is," said Amy; "like a box that eggs come in.
See, this is it," and she rapidly sketched upon a paper the diagram.
"Two partitions run this way, north and south, and two run at right
angles. That's three rooms deep on each floor, look at it from any point
of view. Each room is as like its neighbor as its twin. Hmm, I didn't
realize it, but there are eighteen rooms if we count the halls and the
'black hole.'"

"Almost as large as 'Fairacres,' thee sees."

"It's not so bad, if it weren't so fearfully bare," remarked Hallam,
examining Amy's sketch. "But it's queer."

The entrance hall was the middle front room of the old building. From
this a flight of stairs ran up and ended in "the middle room" above,
with a narrow flight behind into the attic. The