A dozen times he said it was settled, and as many times began
at the beginning to think it all over again. He went home finally, after
the meat was carried around; but this didn't help him any. Home hadn't
gone back to its old state of dirt and disorder: Kitty's first attempt
had been too successful, and she had liked the looks of things too well
to give up; so there was a great change for the better in the
housekeeping, which both Kitty and her mother enjoyed. Still, there was
no denying that, though a clean, it was a very forlorn little room, with
very few things for comfort or convenience. Tip had never seen this with
such wide-open eyes as he did today; so coming home did not quiet the
vexing thoughts.
He split wood and pumped water without whistling a note, growing more
sober every minute. At last, after supper, when the work was all done
that he could do, he drew a sigh of relief; it was so nice to have time
for thought. He could go up to his attic, and he would not come down,
no, not if it wasn't in three days, until this thing was decided finally
and for ever.
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