“Let me see. Papa gave you five shillings----” “And then the ten he gave me as I went out by the gate after you’d gone up,” pursued Bram, imperturbably. “Ten!” echoed Claire, sharply. “Papa gave you ten shillings more!” “Half-a-sovereign, yes,” replied Bram, mendaciously. “You said he hadn’t given me enough, you know, so he gave me the ten shillings. You ask him.” Claire shook her head. “It’s no use asking papa anything,” she said with a sigh. Then she added, suddenly raising her head and flashing her eyes, “I must trust to your honor, Mr. Elshaw.” The sound of his name uttered by her lips gave Bram a ridiculous thrill of pleasure. He had supposed she only knew him as “Bram,” and the thought that she had taken the trouble to inquire his name was a delicious one. “Yes,” said he simply, in no wise troubled by the doubt she expressed. “Well, that’s fifteen shillings, and you owe me four shillings and fourpence.” She gave him a quick glance of suspicion, and then counted out her poor little hoard of sixpences and coppers. She had only three shillings and sevenpence. “I owe you,” said she, as she put the money into his hand, “ninepence, which I must pay you next week. But, please, I want you to promise,” she earnestly went on, “not to do any more shopping for papa. He is so extravagant,” and she tried to laugh merrily, “that I have to keep some check upon him, or we should soon be ruined.” “All right, Miss Claire, I’ll do just as you wish, of course. But it’s a great pleasure to me to be able to do any little thing for you. You know, for one thing,” he added quickly, fancying that she might think this presumptuous, “that Mr. Christian was the person who got me moved up out of the works, so I am doubly glad to do anything for--for anybody he takes an interest in.” Over Claire’s sensitive face there passed a shadow at the mention of Christian’s name. “Christian Cornthwaite is my cousin, you know,” said she. “He often talks of you. He says you are very clever, and he is very proud of having discovered you, as he calls it.” “It was very good of him,” said Bram. “I’m afraid I don’t do him much credit; I’m such a rough sort of chap.” Miss Biron looked at him rather shyly, and laughed. “Well, you were, just a little. But you are--are----” “A little bit better now?” suggested Bram modestly. “Well, I was going to say a great deal better, only I was afraid it sounded rather rude. What I meant was that--that----” “Well, I should like to hear what it was you meant.” “Well, that you speak differently, for one thing.” “But I slip back sometimes,” said Bram, laughing and blushing, just as she laughed and blushed. “It’s so hard not to say ‘Ah’ when I ought to say ‘I.’ I’m getting on, I know, but it’s like walking on eggs all the time.” Then they both laughed again, and at this point the door opened and Mr. Biron came in.