"You did not see, father, I hope," he said earnestly, as he mounted his pony, and Sir Everard assured him he had not once looked towards the window. "How much?" asked the baronet, as the parcel was handed up. "Ten-and-sixpence," answered the shop-woman. Sir Everard hid his feelings, and paid the money. "Isn't it cheap?" said Humphrey, as they rode off, "considering it's all embroidered with gold, and ... oh! dear me! I hope you haven't guessed by that?" "Far from it," answered Sir Everard; "I am more puzzled than ever; for I can't conceive what you could have found in that little shop, that would be all embroidered with gold." Humphrey was in great glee. "You haven't the slightest _idea_, I suppose, father what it is?" "Not the remotest." "So I know something you don't. You often tell me you know so many things I know nothing about. Now it is just the other way, isn't it?" "Just the other way," answered the baronet, and Humphrey rode on in a state of great elation. "It's a dreadful thing to have a secret," he observed presently, after having once or twice begun to speak, and stopped short. "Why?" inquired his father, smiling. "Oh! so _dreadfully_ difficult to keep," he answered. "Two or three times I've been beginning to talk about it, and forgetting you weren't to know." "Let's talk of something else then." Another pause, and then Humphrey said: "Do you know, father, I think you had better take me home?" "Home already! are you tired?" "No--it isn't that; but I know if I wait much longer, I shall be telling you the secret before I can stop myself. If I only could tell some one, I should be all right; so that's why I want to get home to Miles." "But I want to call on General Colville and also to pay old Dyson a visit. Can you last a little longer, do you think?" Humphrey was fond of society, and so took very kindly to the arrangement. "Dyson is the old deaf man, isn't he? Was he born deaf?" "No; it is only of late years that he has become so." "I'm glad I wasn't born deaf. It would have been a great bore. I wonder Dyson doesn't buy an ear-trumpet." "I suppose, poor fellow, he can't afford it." "I _should_ so like to give him one." "But where's your money?" "Ah! there it is again. I never _do_ have any money." "I gave you a shilling a very little while ago." "I bought copper caps, and hard-bake." "Ah! we can't eat our cake, and have it, you know." "Not cake, father--hardbake!" "It's all the same. Now, if you were to save up your money, instead of buying trash, you would be able to buy useful things." "So I will. I'll begin saving directly; the very next shilling you give me, I'll put away, and go on till I've got enough to buy Dyson an ear-trumpet." "That will be a very good plan." "When do you suppose you'll be giving me another shilling, father?" "Ah! that I don't know at all."