She plucked a rose from the vase and strewed the petals on the surface of the liquid to help the taste, whilst Mr Bevan ladled some into a glass. "It's not bad, 'pon my word it's not bad; the curaçoa seems to blend all the other flavours together, but it's fearfully strong." "Wait"--she ran to the sideboard for a bottle of soda water. "Mix it half and half, and see how it tastes." "That's better." "Then we'll take it into the library, it's more comfortable there. You carry the bowl, and I will bring the candles." "What are these?" asked Mr Bevan, as he removed some papers from the library table to make room for the punch bowl. "Oh, some papers of father's." "The Rorkes Drift Gold Mines." "Yes," she said, glancing over his shoulder. "I remember now; those are the things I am to get a silk dress out of when they go to twenty. Father is mad over them; he says nothing will stop them when they begin to move, whatever that means." "Well, they have moved with a vengeance, for only yesterday I heard they had gone into liquidation." "All the good luck seems coming together," said Fanny with a happy sigh, as Charles went to the window and looked out at the moon, rising in a cloudless sky over the forsaken garden and ruined tennis ground. "Not that it matters much if we get those jewels whether the old mines go up or down; still, no matter how rich one becomes, more money is always useful." "Yes, I suppose it is," said he, looking with a troubled but sentimental face at the moon. "Tell me, Fanny, do you know much about the Stock Exchange?" "Oh, heaps." "What do you know?" "I know that Brighton A's are called Doras--no, Berthas--no, I think it's Doras--and Mexican Railways are going to Par, and the Kneedeep Mines are going to a hundred and fifty, and father has a thousand of them he got for sixpence a share, and he gave me fifty for myself, but I'm not to sell them till they go to a hundred. Aren't stockbrokers nice-looking, and always so well dressed? I saw hundreds of them one day father left me for a moment in Angel Court whilst he ran in to see his broker--Oh yes! and the bears are going to catch it at the next settlement." "Do you know what 'bears' are?" "No," said Fanny, "but they're going to catch it whatever they are, for I heard father say so--Oh, what a moon! I am sure the fairies must be out to-night." "You don't mean to say you believe in such rubbish as fairies?" "Of course I believe in them; not here in Highgate, perhaps, for there are too many people, but in woods and places." "But there are no such things, it has been proved over and over again; _no_ one believes in them nowadays." "Did you never see the mushrooms growing in rings? Well, how could they grow like that if they were not planted, and who'd be bothered planting umbrella mushrooms in rings but the fairies?" "Does your father believe in them?" "Never asked him, but of course he does; every one does--even Susannah."