"But what will I do without any company at all ?" she cried.

"And without any food ?" "I've seen to the food, ma'am." And Matilda explained that during the evening, in preparation for her going, she had been smuggling into the house from Sixth Avenue delicatessen stores boxes of crackers, cold meats, all varieties of canned goods--"enough to last you for a month, ma'am, and by that time I'll be back." Her explanation made, Matilda proceeded, with extremest caution, to carry the provisions up and stack them in one corner of Mrs.De Peyster's large, white-tiled bathroom.

When the freightage was over, the bathroom, with its supply of crackers and zweibach, its bottles of olives and pickles, its cold tongue, cold roast beef, cold chicken, its cans of salmon, sardines, deviled ham, California peaches, and condensed milk--the bathroom was itself a delicatessen shop that many an ambitious young German would have regarded as a proud start in life.
"But what about food for the others while you're gone ?" inquired Mrs.
De Peyster--with a sudden hope that the others would be starved into leaving.
"I've attended to them, ma'am.

I've bought a lot of things that will keep.

And then I told the tradespeople that my niece was going to be here in my place, and they are to deliver milk and other fresh things for her every day in care of William." Matilda broke down at the last moment.
"If it wasn't for you, ma'am, I wouldn't care if it was me that was sick, instead of my sister, and if I never got well.