Gerald's eyes sparkled enviously at the sight. How he wished one of those bright sovereigns was his, then he would soon be out of debt. A sigh broke from his lips as he counted the coins. One—two—three sovereigns, and one—two—three—four half-sovereigns! He wondered if Mrs. Vallance knew how much money was there, and if it was hers, or if his uncle had given it to her for household expenses during his absence. If he had one of those sovereigns it would make him quite happy he thought, for Reginald Hope had hinted to him only that morning that he would require some money from him soon. He glanced out of the window, and uttered an exclamation of alarm. Angel and Polly were still gathering raspberries; but Mrs. Vallance, having filled her dish, was coming towards the house to empty it. Acting on the impulse of the moment, Gerald hastily abstracted one of the sovereigns, replaced the tortoise-shell box where he had found it, shut the desk, locked it, and met the housekeeper at the back door as she was coming in. She looked at him sharply, struck by something peculiar in his expression; but he brushed by her, and went out into the garden without a word. He was in high, unnatural spirits for the remainder of the evening; and at supper kept up an incessant flow of conversation, making wild plans as to how the summer holidays should be spent. "Tom Mickle is talking of camping out," he said, "but Gilbert doesn't seem keen to join him. I wish father would let me! Wouldn't it be fun?" "Yes, if the weather's fine," Angel answered doubtfully, "not if it rains." "Oh, of course it will be fine in August!" "You don't see much of Reginald Hope now, do you?" Angel inquired abruptly. "No—not a great deal. I—I don't like him so much as I did at first; but, still, he's not a bad sort of fellow, mind you!" "He's a very cruel boy, at any rate. Dinah Mickle says he bets; does he?" "What if he does, Angel? It's nothing to do with you." Gerald looked slightly uneasy as he made this reply, for he saw his sister was regarding him with keen attention. His eyes fell beneath her steady gaze as she said— "No, of course it's nothing to me, but I thought—I thought—" She paused in embarrassment, hardly liking to put what she really thought into words; it had occurred to her that it was possible Reginald Hope had prevailed upon her brother to bet, and that he might have been squandering his money in that way; the idea had never entered her head until a few days previously, when Dinah had informed her confidentially that Gilbert and Tom wouldn't have anything to do with Reginald Hope because he made bets and used bad language, and was not a nice boy at all. "Oh, Gerald!" she cried, after a short pause, "I hope you will never bet! You know what father thinks about people who do!"