"It is the devil's own mess here," admitted Amos. "I'm going to move
next month. This place has got on my nerves."

"No, Daddy, no!" exclaimed Lydia.

Both men started as the little girl appeared in the kitchen door. "I
came down to put Florence Dombey to bed," she explained. "Oh, Daddy,
don't let's move again! Why, we've only been here two years."

"I've got to get into a place where I can have a garden," insisted
Amos. "If we go further out of town we can get more land for less
rent."

"Oh, I don't want to move," wailed Lydia. "Seems to me we've always
been moving. Last time you said 'twas because you couldn't bear to
stay in the house where mother died. I don't see what excuse you've
got this time."

"Lydia, go to bed!" cried Amos.

Lydia retreated hastily into the kitchen and in a moment they heard her
footsteps on the back stairs.

"It's a good idea to have a garden," said John Levine. "I tell you,
take that cottage of mine out near the lake. I'll let you have it for
what you pay for this. It'll be empty the first of September."

"I'll go you," said Amos. "It's as pretty a place as I know of."