"It was purty hard, but we fetched it," sighed Amarilly, thinking of the struggles, "We're doin' fine now again." "But, tell me; how did you buy food and things when none of you were working?" "When your ten dollars was gone, we spent his'n." "Whose?" "Mr. Meredith's. He sent us a ten, too." "Oh!" replied Colette frigidly. "Then the Boarder give us all he hed. Arterwards come dark days until Mr. Vedder sent us a fiver.--Then thar was an orful day when thar wa'n't a cent and we didn't know whar to turn, and then--It saved us." "It? What?" "The surplus. Mr. St. John's surplus. It brung in lots." "Why, what do you mean, Amarilly?" "You see 'twas at our house when Iry was fust took sick--same as the waist you gimme was. They couldn't nuther on 'em be sent hum till they was fumygated. Then Mrs. Winders said as how he, Mr. St. John, said as how we was to keep it and cut it up fer the chillern, but we didn't." "Oh, Amarilly," asked Colette faintly, "do you mean to tell me that the surplice was never delivered to Mr. Meredith?" "No. Gus didn't take it that night, and in the mornin' when Iry was took it was too late. And then when it got fumygated, Mr. St. John had gone away and he left word we was to keep it." The transformation in Colette's mobile face during this explanation was rapid and wonderful. With a radiant smile she stopped the brougham and put her arms impulsively about Amarilly. "Oh, Amarilly, I'm so happy, and I've had such a wretched summer! Now, we will go right to your house and you'll let me see the surplice." Amarilly looked surprised. "Why, yes, you can see it, of course, though it ain't no diffrent from his other ones." "Oh yes it is! Far, far different, Amarilly. It has a history." "Yes, I guess it has," laughed Amarilly, "It's been goin' some these last two months!" "Why, what do you mean, Amarilly? and I forgot in my excitement to ask how it helped you. But first tell me. You know there is a pocket in it?" "Yes, Miss King." "Have you noticed anything in the pocket?" "Never looked onct. But then if thar was 'twould hev come out in the wash. It's been did up heaps of times. You see, rentin' it out so much--" "Renting it out!" Amarilly gave a graphic account of the adventures of the errant garment to date. Meanwhile Colette's countenance underwent kaleidoscopic changes. "Amarilly," she asked faintly, "have you the addresses of all those people to whom you rented it?" "Yes; I keep books now, and I put it down in my day ledger the way the Boarder showed me." "There was something--of mine--in--that pocket. Will you ask your mother to look for it, and hunt the house over for it?" Amarilly, greatly distressed at the loss, promised faithfully to do so. CHAPTER XV As soon as Amarilly had been deposited at her door, Colette tore a leaf from the tablet reposing in its silver case, hastily wrote a few lines, and then ran her brougham at full speed back to St. Mark's. A chorister was just coming out.