Greatly elated, Marjorie referred the sale to Miss Merington, and that lady was very much pleased when Mr. Abercrombie gave her a good-sized banknote, and declined to take any change. "For the good of the cause," he said, waiving away the proffered change. "And now," their eccentric customer went on, "I've just a little more money to spend at this booth, for I've promised one or two other friends to buy some of their wares. But, Miss Rosycheeks, I'll tell you what I'll do." He looked at Marjorie so teasingly that she felt sure he was going to ask her to spell something else, and this time she feared she would fail. "I'll do this," proceeded Mr. Abercrombie: "I'll buy anything for sale at this booth that our young friend, the paragon speller, can _not_ spell!" Marjorie's eyes sparkled. She wasn't really a "paragon speller," and she felt sure there must be something that was beyond her knowledge. But, somehow, all the things seemed to have simple names. Any one could spell mittens and muffs and mats. And though mandolin and marmalade were harder, yet she conscientiously realized that she could spell those correctly. "I don't see anything," she said, at last, slowly and regretfully. "Then I save my money, and you save your reputation as a speller," said Mr. Abercrombie, jocosely, as he jingled some silver in his pocket. "Oh, wait a minute!" cried Marjorie. "There's that handsome clock! Miss Merington said it's malachite, and I haven't the least idea how to spell that!" "Fairly caught!" said the old gentleman, chuckling at his own defeat. "I see by your honest eyes that you really don't know how to spell malachite, and it _is_ a hard word. Now, listen, and I'll teach you." Mr. Abercrombie spelled the word, and then said: "Would you have guessed it was spelled like that?" "No, sir," said Midge, truthfully; "I should have thought there was a 'k' in it." "I almost wish there had been," said the gentleman, ruefully, "then I should not have to buy the most expensive article on your table. However, it will look well on my library mantel, and I shall rejoice whenever I look at it and remember that you know how to spell it." Marjorie smiled at this idea, and the queer customer paid to Miss Merington the rather large price that was marked on the handsome clock. "Marjorie, you're a trump!" said she, as Mr. Abercrombie walked away. "He's about the only one here rich enough to buy that clock, and I'm glad he took it. This will swell our fund finely." When it was supper-time, the Maynards and Fultons all went together to the restaurant in the R booth. They had a merry time, and Marjorie told the story of her "Spelling Lesson," as she called it. "You're a born merchant, Midge," said King. "You make money by knowing how to spell--and then you make money by not knowing!"