Ethel marched out of the room; but Nesta had no idea of putting the tempting subject out of her head. She went upstairs to her own room. She counted over the shillings left of her darling yellow-boy. She had eighteen shillings and sixpence. Nesta was careful with regard to money and had not indulged Flossie beyond eighteen-pence worth of good things at Simpson's shop. With eighteen and sixpence, what could she not do? What pleasures could she not enjoy? Oh, she must go. She slipped her little purse under a pile of handkerchiefs on one of her drawers, tidied herself as well as she could, and went into her mother's room. How hot and dull it all was. Her mother's face looked more fagged and tired than usual; but the girl, full of her own thoughts, had none for her mother. "Mothery," she said suddenly, "when do you think you'll be well enough to go to the seaside?" "Oh, I should love it," said poor Mrs Aldworth, and she stretched out her arms wearily. "I am so hot and so tired; I'm sure if once I could get there, it would do me a world of good." "If you do everything the doctor says, and keep on taking your tonics, you will be able to go in a fortnight's time, or so," said Nurse Davenant. "Now, here is a delicious blancmange, you must eat it, and you must take this cream with it. Come, now, dear, eat it up." "It does look good," said Mrs Aldworth; "but I get so tired of these sort of things, and I am so hot--so hot!" This was her constant complaint. "Anybody would be hot," said Nesta, "who stayed in this stifling room." She went out and stood on the balcony. From there she saw, to her intense annoyance, Flossie and Penelope coming up the path towards the house, side by side. She wished she dared ask leave to go down; her face turned scarlet, and her heart beat quickly. What was to be done? She would have given anything at that moment to see Flossie. Of course, Flossie had come to arrange about the visit to Scarborough, and there was so little time to spare. Mrs Aldworth's weak voice called her. "Dear, little girl, come in and sit on this stool at mother's feet, and tell me something funny." "I'll tell you a fairy story," said Nesta, sitting down. "It is all about a poor fairy princess, who was all covered with coal-dust and grime, and she wanted to bathe in the cool sea, and she couldn't because--because--" "Why?" said Mrs Aldworth. "Because there was a horrid dragon--rather, a dragoness, who took all the pleasures for herself, and left the poor little fairy princess to pine, and pine--" "That doesn't sound at all a nice story," said Nurse Davenant. "There's no sense in it either," she said, as she saw Mrs Aldworth's mouth quiver. "Now, get your book and read something. Here's `John Halifax.' Go on with that."