Hope was not at breakfast with us.
'The child is worn out,'said Mrs Fuller. 'I shall keep her in bed a day or two.
'Couldn't I see her a moment?'I enquired.
'Dear! no!'said she. 'The poor thing is in bed with a headache.'If Hope had been ill at home I should have felt free to go and sit by her as I had done more than once. It seemed a little severe to be shut away from her now but Mrs Fuller's manner had fore-answered any appeal and I held my peace. Having no children of her own she had assumed a sort of proprietorship over Hope that was evident - that probably was why the girl had ceased to love me and to write to me as of old. A troop of mysteries came clear to me that morning. Through many gifts and favours she had got my sweetheart in a sort of bondage and would make a marriage of her own choosing if possible.
'Is there anything you would like particularly for your breakfast?
Mrs Fuller enquired.
'Hain't no way pertic lar,'said Uncle Eb. 'I gen rally eat buckwheat pancakes an'maple sugar with a good strong cup o'tea.
Mrs Fuller left the room a moment.
'Dunno but I ll go out if the barn a minnit 'n take a look at the hosses,'he said when she came back.
'The stable is a mile away,'she replied smiling.
'Gran'good team ye druv us out with las'night,'he said. 'Hed a chance t'look 'em over a leetle there at the door. The off hoss is puffed some for ard but if ye r husband ll put on a cold bandage ev ry night it ll make them legs smoother n a hound's tooth.
She thanked him and invited us to look in at the conservatory.
'Where's yer husband?'Uncle Eb enquired.
'He's not up yet,'said she, 'I fear he did not sleep well.
'Now Mis Fuller,'said Uncle Eb, as we sat waiting, 'if there s anything I can do t'help jes'le'me know what 'tis.
She said there was nothing. Presently Uncle Eb sneezed so powerfully that it rattled the crystals on the chandelier and rang in the brass medallions.
The first and second butlers came running in with a frightened look. There was also a startled movement from somebody above stairs.
'I do sneeze powerful, sometimes,'said Uncle Eb from under his red bandanna.''S enough if scare anybody.
They brought in our breakfast then - a great array of tempting dishes. 'Jest hey four pancakes 'n a biled egg,'said Uncle Eb as he sipped his tea. 'Grand tea!'he added, 'strong enough if float a silver dollar too.
'Mrs Fuller,'I said rising, when we had finished, 'I thank you for your hospitality, but as I shall have to work nights, probably, I must find lodgings near the office.
'You must come and see us again,'she answered cordially. 'On Saturday I shall take Hope away for a bit of rest to Saratoga probably - and from there I shall take her to Hillsborough myself for a day or two.
'Thought she was goin'home with me,'said Uncle Eb.
'O dear no!'said Mrs Fuller, 'she cannot go now. The girl is ill and it's such a long journey.
The postman came then with a letter for Uncle Eb.
It was from David Brower. He would have to be gone a week or so buying cattle and thought Uncle Eb had better come home as soon as convenient.
'They re lonesome,'he said, thoughtfully, after going over the letter again. "Tain't no wonder - they re gittin'old.
Uncle Eb was older than either of them but he had not thought of that.
'Le's see; 's about eight o clock,'said he, presently. 'I've got t'go an ten'to some business o'my own. I ll be back here sometime if day Mis Fuller an'I ll hey if see thet girl. Ye musm t never try if keep me 'way from her. She's sot on my knee too many year fer that' altogether too many.
We arranged to meet there at four. Then a servant brought us our hats. I heard Hope calling as we passed the stairway:
'Won't you come up a minute, Uncle Eb? I want to see you very much.
Then Uncle Eb hurried upstairs and I came away.
I read the advertisements of board and lodging - a perplexing task for one so ignorant of the town. After many calls I found a place to my liking on Monkey Hill, near Printing House Square. Monkey Hill was the east end of William Street, and not in the least fashionable. There were some neat and cleanly looking houses on it of wood, and brick, and brown stone inhabited by small tradesmen; a few shops, a big stable and the chalet sitting on a broad, flat roof that covered a portion of the stableyard. The yard itself was the summit of Monkey Hill. It lay between two brick buildings and up the hill, from the walk, one looked into the gloomy cavern of the stable and under the low roof, on one side7 there were dump carts and old coaches in varying stages of infirmity. There was an old iron shop, that stood flush with the sidewalk, flanking the stableyard. A lantern and a mammoth key were suspended above the door and hanging upon the side of the shop was a wooden stair ascending to the chalet The latter had a sheathing of weather-worn clapboards. It stood on the rear end of the brick building, communicating with the front rooms above the shop. A little stair of five steps ascended from the landing to its red door that overlooked an ample yard of roofing, adorned with potted plants. The main room of the chalet where we ate our meals and sat and talked, of an evening, had the look of a ship's cabin.
