The coin had evidently been washed, as had also Miss Dobbins face, which was painfully red and shiny. Then she looked at the thick clump boots, laced up with a leathern thong—at the sturdy legs, showing below the short, scanty, hailstorm-pattern cotton gown—at the little old-fashioned black pelerine—at the coarse school bonnet—at the light brown hair, cut so short all round—at the greenish-grey eyes, sparkling with pleasure—at the unmanageable mouth, which would smile and break into grins of delight at the recovery of so great a treasure—at the hard hands, that seemed to have done so much work—before she said— “Sit down for a moment, I shall be back presently.” She wanted to tell the story to Heather, and ask her advice; but, as Heather happened to be out of the way, Bessie returned to the hall discomforted. She did not like to give the girl back the money, or its equivalent, and she was racking her brains what to offer, when Lally appeared on the scene of action, with a huge wedge of cake in her hand, which it is only right to state she was absolutely unable to eat. “Lally, come here,” exclaimed Bessie. “I wish to give this little girl something by which to remember me—something to remind her of having been very careless and very good. What do you think she would like best?” and Bessie took the child in her arms and waited, hoping, perhaps, the stranger might suggest some desirable memento for herself. But Prissy never spoke, nor, for some time, did Lally, who first stared at Priscilla from head to foot, and then gravely turned and looked at Bessie, wondering apparently whether that young lady could conveniently part with her face as an appropriate offering to the stranger. Then her eyes wandered to Bessie’s throat, and so fell on a tiny brooch which fastened her collar. The moment they did so— “Dive her ’at,” said Lally, unhesitatingly, a suggestion which she would have made all the same had the trinket been worth a hundred guineas; as it was, Bessie abode by her decision, and taking out the brooch, handed it to Priscilla, remarking at the same time that, “although she might not care for it then, she would perhaps when she grew up to be a woman.” Not to be outdone in generosity, Lally at once presented the girl with her piece of cake, assuring her it was “very dood,” the truth of which statement Bessie doubted exceedingly. Next day, over came Mrs. Dobbin to know whether it was “correct as a young lady at Berrie Down had given her gal a golden brooch? She did not think her gal would tell a lie, but still young uns wanted to be looked arter.” Assured of the rectitude of the transaction, Mrs. Dobbin, after having been refreshed with ale and a slice of bread and meat, was permitted to depart. “Altogether, the half-crown threatens to prove a costly matter,” Bessie remarked; but Heather only said they seemed to be very honest, worthy people, and the subject dropped.