"But, dear Miss Prue, I haven't so much altogether as you have in a
year."

"Then, are you crazy, child? You'll feel as if cast on a desert island
in that crowd of strangers, with no one to care whether you live or die;
and you couldn't live six months on so little."

"But Mr. Glendenning said I could get two or three rooms for somewhere
from eighteen to thirty dollars, and I hoped, with the rent of the
cottage here"--

"A month, Sara, a month; surely you didn't expect to pay so little for a
year!"

"Why, yes, I did; I'm afraid I'm dreadfully ignorant, Miss Prue."

"As bad as a chicken just out of the shell," shaking her head with
comical lugubriousness. "Go to Boston, indeed! you'd starve to death on
a doorstep, all four of you, I can see you now, laid out like a row of
assorted pins, for all the world. Humph! Boston, indeed!" with bridling
earnestness. "Besides, what business has that Glendwing, or whatever his
high-falutin name may be, to mix himself up with our affairs? I declare,
Sara, I've a great mind to move the whole lot of you down here, and take
care of you myself. I would, too, if it wasn't for Polly; but she'd
quarrel with the children all day long, and make life a burden."

Sara laughed, but looked disappointed too.

"I see it's not to be thought of now, Miss Prue; but I hoped I could
work there, and indeed I don't know what there is to do here."