Turquoise and Ruby

care a penny piece whetheryour frocks cost six-and-sixpence or sixpence halfpenny a yard. I don'tknow what a yard means. Leave me now, Nina. I am quite cool, and shallset to work to write a specially good sermon for Sunday. Theparishioners want a new sermon, for I have given them the old ones forover a year and I am in the mood to-day. Dear Brenda sometimes helps mewith my sermons, but of late I have not found her amenable in thatrespect. She has a most lively imagination and often throws a freshlight on a text which I myself do not perceive. But go away and hemyour frills, and be thankful that you have a good father who can allowyou a nice sum each to buy clothes, and an excellent--most excellentgoverness, who devotes herself to you."

  "She will be home at twelve to-night: are you going to sit up for her?"said Nina.

  "Of course I am--poor girl. Do you think I wouldn't do what I could toshow how I appreciate her--how we all appreciate her? I am going tomake her a Welsh rabbit for her supper: it is the one dainty that I canmake to perfection."

  "Oh, papa!" said Nina, bursting out laughing; "I don't believe there's ascrap of cheese in the house!"

  The Reverend Josiah made no response to this, but a slightly knowingexpression crossed his sandy face, and Nina had to leave him. In truth,she did not want to stay any longer, for she had got the information shedesired.

  The rectory at Harroway was by no means well furnished. It was a large,rambling old house. What carpets there were bore traces of wear andtear. The sofas were covered with untidy and torn chintzes. Thelandings had many of them bare boards destitute of any coveringwhatsoever; the bedrooms were _en suite_ with the rest of the house.But the garden, neglected as it was, was nevertheless a source ofunfailing delight. It was an old garden, and had once been dearly lovedand carefully tended by a rector who cared more for his flowers than forthe souls committed to his care. In his day, roses had bloomed toperfection in this old-world garden, and all sorts of plants and flowersand shrubs had adorned the alleys and had cast their shade over thewalks.

  This was some time ago, and the Reverend Josiah only employed a man oncea week to give the garden just a sort of outside semblance of order.Nevertheless, Nature did not quite forsake the old spot. The unprunedroses still threw out luxuriant blossom, and the shrubs still bloomedand every sort of perennial flower--poppies, sweet peas, jasmine,mignonette sowed themselves and blossomed again and yet again.

  Now, the children cared nothing about flowers; they regarded them aslittle better than weeds, for anything that could be secured withoutmoney was to them simply worthless. Neither did they care for pets.There was no dog, nor even a cat, at the rectory. But they liked to situnder the shade of the old trees and, in particular, to invade thesummerhouse, which stood back in deepest shade at the far corner of thegrounds.

  Here, on this hot day, Nina found her two sisters with their pink muslinfrills in a cloud about them, while they themselves were bending overthe work. Nina appeared, severely armed with a pencil and paper."Now,"--she said--"here I am."

  "Well, that is very evident," remarked Fanchon. "Why don't you sit downand do some work?" said Josephine.

  "My frock hasn't got any flounces."

  "Oh--how you will harp on that tiresome theme again!"

  "I won't--at least not for much longer," remarked the tiresome child;"but I've got something to say--I mean to do a little sum."

  "A sum!--you?"

  "Yes--and if I am wrong, Fanchon can help me--or you can, Josephine."

  "Not I," said Josephine, "my head aches too badly."

  "Well, well," said Nina, "let's begin--I know you will help me when Iask you. We were all with Brenda, were we not, when she bought the pinkmuslins?"

  "Why, of course we were, you stupid," said Fanchon. "Pass me that reelof cotton, please, Josephine." Josephine did so. Nina placed herselfon a low stool and put her sheet of paper and pencil cosily on her knee.

  "I know exactly," she said, "how much muslin was bought: five yards forme, because I was not to have flounces; and seven yards for Josephineand eight yards for you, Fanchon, because you are the tallest."

  "Well, yes--I suppose that is all right," said Fanchon; but she began,as she said afterwards, to see some method in her sister's presentmadness.

  "Now," continued Nina, "I want to cast up a sum. Five--and seven--andeight. Fanchon, do tell me how much five and seven and eight make."

  "Twenty," was Fanchon's immediate reply. "Dear, dear! now I can't findmy thimble!"

  "Oh, Fanchon--it's rolled away into that corner."

  "Pick it up, Nina."

  "No," said Nina--"not yet. How much, please, does twenty yards ofmuslin, at sixpence halfpenny a yard, come to?"

  The sum was made up by Fanchon, who was quite quick at arithmetic.

  "Ten shillings and ten-pence," she replied.

  "Yes, I thought so--and there were no linings of any kind got; for dearBrenda said that we could use up some of the frocks we had outgrown, forthat purpose. So our three muslin frocks cost exactly ten shillings andten-pence. It doesn't seem much for three girls, does it, Fanchon?"

  "I don't know," said Fanchon, crossly. "Why will you bother us in thisqueer way, Nina?"

  "Well--I am thinking," said Nina; "you will see my meaning after a bit.After Brenda had got the frocks and paid for them--only she did it soquickly, I can't make out how much money she put down--she bought thehats. The hats untrimmed were one shilling each, she bought a yard ofwhite muslin to trim each and the white muslin was eight-pence a yard.She grumbled at the price. Three times eight is--"

  "Oh--two shillings, two shillings!" said Josephine.

  "Well, yes--that is quite right," said Nina. "Our three hats, trimmed,came to five shillings. Add five shillings to ten and ten-pence--thatmakes fifteen and ten-pence. Then there were our sand shoes--one andeleven-pence each--_they_ came to five and nine-pence; and our gloves;--white washing gloves--don't you remember what a fuss Brenda made aboutthem, and said that she would wash them herself for us at night, so thatthey would be clean every day? and I know they were only sixpence. Nowthen--let us count up the whole sum."

  The other two girls were now immensely interested. They did count thesum, doing it wrong once or twice, but finally producing a total whichcould not be gainsaid, and which came out precisely at one pound, threeshillings, and a penny. Nina's little white face was flushed when thisgreat task had been accomplished.

  "Can you remember any other single thing?" she asked of her sisters.

  "No, there was nothing else," said Josephine.

  "And did Brenda say, or did she not, that she had spent a lot of moneyon us, and that we must do with it, whether we liked it or not, becausethere was not a farthing more that could be produced?"

  "Well, yes, she did," said Fanchon, "and it seemed a lot at the time--atleast, I thought so."

  Nina rose solemnly now from her little stool. "Girls,"--she said--"Ihave something to say to you. I have found Brenda out. She spent onepound--three shillings--and one penny--on _us_, and do you know how muchmoney father gave her to spend upon us?"

  "_No_," said Fanchon.

  "No," echoed Josephine. "What _do_ you mean, Nina? you extraordinarychild!"

  "Well--he told me this morning quite simply; I didn't ask him, he justmentioned it. You won't guess--it is really awful--it will put youout--it gives me a sort of lumpy, throaty feeling. He gave Brenda ninepounds! three pounds for each of us! and she must have kept back--oh, Ican't make it out--it makes my head turn round--she must have bought herown _lovely blue silk_, and all her own _lovely_ clothes out of ourmoney! Oh dear! oh dear! I wouldn't have thought it of her. And tothink that I am not even to have frills to my muslin frock!"

  "And to think that the frocks must be pink for us!" said Fanchon. "Oh,I can't believe it."

  "It is true, though," said Josephine. "She has kept back--oh dear, ohdear--how much is it? I wonder!"

  Again three puzzled heads bent over the piece of paper, and at last thefull enormity of the beloved
Brenda's conduct was revealed to thechildren. She had, of their money--yes, their own money--given to themby their own father--seven pounds, sixteen shillings, and eleven-penceto account for!

  "We might have been dressed like duchesses," said Nina. She burst outcrying. "Oh--this _horrid_ frock!" she said, and she kicked theoffending pink muslin to the opposite side of the summerhouse. "I'llnever wear it--_that_ I won't!" she cried. "I'll disgrace her, that Iwill--horrid _thief_ of a thing!"

  As