"He gave you half-a-crown at the same time, and yours was gone a fortnight ago," Angel reminded her brother; "and you've had money from father besides, and I haven't." "Well, you needn't be cross! Of course boys want more money than girls," Gerald declared in a lordly tone. "Are you sure you can't lend me just a few pence?" he asked persuasively. "Quite sure. Do you think I would tell you a story about it?" she demanded, her grey eyes flashing indignantly. "No, no," Gerald responded hastily; "I was only surprised to think you had spent all your money." "I don't see why you should be. Let me see," said Angel reflectively, "I bought some notepaper with bunches of violets on each sheet because I wanted to write to Mrs. Steer, and I thought she would be sure to like my letter better if it was written on pretty paper— that was a shilling. Then, the little jar for flowers I gave to father for his studio cost another shilling—that's two shillings. And threepence I spent in sweets one day when I was in the town with Dinah and Dora Mickle—that's two shillings and threepence. And—" "Oh, I don't want to know how you spent it all!" Gerald interposed impatiently; "since it's all gone, it's no matter." Angel proceeded with her weeding, her brother watching her with rather a dissatisfied expression on his handsome face. Presently he reopened the conversation— "Angel, couldn't you ask father to change his mind, and let me have a little money?" "Oh no, no, I couldn't," she answered hastily. "Oh, you might. He always does what you ask him—" this in coaxing tones. "Don't be disagreeable, Angel." "I don't mean to be disagreeable," the little girl said, looking troubled, for she rarely refused any request of her brother's, and it distressed her to do so now, "but I can't ask father for money when he hasn't earned any for months. I'm sure he hasn't much to spare." "What a nuisance! Well, then, how would it be if you asked Uncle Edward instead?" "Gerald!" Angel exclaimed, looking positively shocked at the idea. "You really can't mean it." "Why not? I believe Uncle Edward has plenty of money; I'm sure he'd willingly give me a shilling or two if you asked him. He's awfully fond of you, he is indeed." "Oh, I couldn't ask him. Think of all he has done for us; how he managed and paid for everything when father was ill, and how he has brought us to this beautiful place. Oh, I couldn't ask him for money! How can you suggest it? It would be dreadful. It would seem so greedy after all his kindness." Angel spoke so emphatically that her brother saw it was useless to argue the matter. He stood with his hands thrust into his trousers' pockets, kicking the small pebbles in the path, his face a picture of discontent. He considered his sister very unkind and disobliging; but he had no intention of putting his petition to his uncle himself.