"Is it a great deal of money?" she asked. There was astonishment in her voice, and a kind of suppressed eagerness. "Oh, come now--that's too innocent by half! A guinea-piece is a guinea-piece, and a guinea is twenty-one shillings; and twenty-one shillings, likely enough, is more'n you'll earn in a year outside o' your keep. Who gave it ye?" "A gentleman--the Collector--at the Inn just now. "Ho!" said the drug-seller, with a world of meaning. "But if," she went on, "it is worth so much as you say, there must be some mistake. Give it back to me, please. I am sorry for troubling you." She took a small, round parcel from her pocket, laid it on the counter, and held out her hand for the coin. The drug-seller eyed her. "There must be some mistake, I guess," said he, as he gave back the gold piece. "No, and you can take up your packet too; I don't grudge two-pennyworth of salve. But wait a moment while I serve this small customer, for I want a word with you later. . . . Well, and what can I do for you, young gentleman?" he asked, turning to Dicky. Dicky advanced to the shop-board, and as he did so the girl turned and recognised him with a faint, very shy smile. "If you please," he said politely, "I want change for this--if you can spare it." "Bless my soul!" exclaimed the man, staring. "What, _another?_" "The bird-seller up the road had no change about him. And--and, if you please," went on Dick hardily, with a glance at the girl, "she hurt her hands putting out a fire just now. I expect my father gave her the money for that. But she must have burnt her hands _dreffully!_"--Dicky had not quite outgrown his infantile lisp--"and if she's come for stuff to put on them, please I want to pay for it." "But I don't want you to," put in the girl, still hesitating by the counter. "But I'd _rather_ insisted Dicky. "Tut!" said the drug-seller. "A matter of twopence won't break either of us. Captain Vyell's boy, are you? Well, then, I'll take your coppers on principle." He counted out the change, and Dicky--who was not old enough yet to do sums--pretended to find it correct. But he was old enough to have acquired charming manners, and after thanking the drug-seller, gave the girl quite a grown-up little bow as he passed out. She would have followed, but the man said, "Stay a moment. What's your name?" "Ruth Josselin." "Age?" "I was sixteen last month." "Then listen to a word of advice, Ruth Josselin, and don't you take money like that from fine gentlemen like the Collector. They don't give it to the ugly ones. Understand?" "Thank you," she said. "I am going to give it back;" and slipping the guinea into her pocket, she said "Good evening," and walked swiftly out in the wake of the child. The drug-seller looked after her shrewdly. He was a moral man.