"Oh, he can carry it alone," said Abner Holden. "He isn't a baby."

"I'd rather help him," said the housekeeper, taking one handle of the
trunk. "You go first, Herbert, You're young and spry, and can go faster
than I."

On the second landing Herbert saw the little bedroom in which the
housekeeper wanted to put him. It was plainly furnished, but it was
light and cheerful, and he was sorry he was not to have it.

"You could have had that bedroom just as well as not," said Mrs.
Bickford. "It's never used. But Mr. Holden's rather contrary, and as
hard to turn as a--"

"A mule?" suggested Herbert, laughing.

"It's pretty much so," said the housekeeper, joining in the laugh.

They went up a narrow staircase and emerged into a dark garret, running
the whole length of the house without a partition. The beams and rafters
were visible, for the sloping sides were not plastered. Herbert felt
that he might as well have been in the barn, except that there was a
small cot bedstead in the center of the floor.

"It isn't very pleasant," said the housekeeper.

"No," said Herbert, "I don't think it is."

"I declare, it's too bad you should have to sleep here. Mr. Holden isn't