But Mrs. Harper _had_ expected it confidently, and this unlooked-for opposition was a blow. Madeline was not as nice as she used to be, and she must really put some searching questions to her respecting her absence, if she was going to be so horribly grasping about money; and Madeline, blushing for very shame as she bargained with this old female Shylock, reluctantly yielded one hundred pounds for the year she had been pupil-teacher. It was money versus character--and a character is expensive. Mrs. Harper, on her part, undertook to arrange Madeline’s past very completely, and Madeline felt that it must be veiled from her father for the present--at any rate, until Laurence was better, and able to resume work and a foothold on existence. She had assured him yesterday that she would steal for him if necessary. Was not this as bad, she asked herself, bargaining and chaffering thus over her father’s money, and dividing it with the greedy old creature at her side? However, she was to have one hundred and eighty pounds for her share. Oh, riches! Oh, what could she not do with that sum? She was to return to her friends at Solferino Place for three weeks--(she had struggled and battled fiercely for this concession, and carried the day)--was then to return to Harperton, and be subsequently escorted to Plymouth by Miss Harper, who would personally restore her to her father’s arms. After the morning’s exciting business, Madeline was wearied, flushed, and had a splitting headache. She was not sorry to share Mrs. Harper’s excellent tea, and to be allowed to take off her dress and go and lie down in a spare room upstairs--a room once full, but now empty--and there she had a long think; and, being completely worn out, a long, long sleep. After dinner--early dinner--she went out with Miss Harper, and the money--her share--was paid to her without delay. She had stipulated for this. Could it be possible that it was she, Madeline Wynne, who stood opposite to the cashier’s desk cramming notes and sovereigns into her sixpenny purse? As they pursued their walk, Madeline recognized a few old faces, and many old places. She purchased a new hat, which she put on in the shop; and she heard, to her relief, that the Wolfertons had left, and gone to live abroad. Some former schoolfellows, now grown up--no young plant grows quicker than a schoolgirl--recognized and accosted her. These had been day-boarders. They mentally remarked that she had turned out very different to what they expected, and that she looked much older than her age. “She was staying at Mrs. Harper’s, was she?” Before they had time to ask the hundred and one questions with which they were charged, Miss Harper prudently hurried her pupil away, saying, as she did so-- “Least said, soonest mended, my dear. It’s well you had on your new hat! Now you had better get some gloves.”