She was indulging in reflections on the general dulness of her lot, and the lack of sympathy in her sisters, as she lingered by the confectioner’s window, with her eyes fixed on a gorgeous combination of coloured bonbons, when Wilfred Merrifield sauntered out. “Fresh from Paris!” he said. “Going to choose some?” “Oh no, I haven’t got any cash. M. A. keeps us horribly short.” “As usual with governors! But look here! Pocket this. Sweets to the sweet, from an old chum!” “Oh, Will, how jolly! Such a love of a box.” “Make haste! Some of the girls are lurking about, and if there is any mischief to be made, trust Gill for doing it.” “Mischief!—” but before the words were out of her mouth, Gillian and Mysie appeared from the next shop, a bootmaker’s, and Mysie stood aghast with, “What _are_ you doing? Buying goodies! How very ridiculous!” “The proper thing between chums, isn’t it, Vera?” said Wilfred, with an indifferent air. “We aren’t unlucky Sunday scholars, Mysie, to be jumped upon! Good-bye, Vera, _au revoir_!” He sauntered away with his hands in his pockets; while Gillian, from her eldership of two years, and her engagement, gravely said, “Vera, perhaps you do not fully know, but I should say this is not quite the thing.” “He told you we are just chums!” exclaimed Vera. “As if there were any harm in it! You’ve not got a sweet tooth yourself, so you need not grudge me just a few goodies.” Gillian saw that it was of no use to prolong the dispute either for the place or the time, and she hushed Mysie, who was about to expostulate farther, and made her go away with a brief parting, such as she hoped would impress on Vera that the sisters thought very badly of her discretion and loyalty. They could not hear the reflection, “They need not be so particular and so cross. Hubert never thought of giving me anything nice like this. Why should not my chum? Such a sweet little box too, with a dear girl’s head on it! Would Polly fuss about it, and set on Sister? I shall put it into my own drawer, and then if they notice it, they may think somebody at Filsted gave it! No one has any business to worry me about Hubert, and Wilfred being civil to me. He _is_ a gentleman.” The gentleman had been overtaken by his sisters. He was walking his bicycle up the hill rather breathlessly and slowly. Mysie indignantly began, “Of all the stupid things to do, to give goodies to that girl, like a baby!” “I have been wishing to speak to you,” said Gillian. “You are going the way to get that foolish girl into a scrape.” “Oh, yes, of course. Sisters uniformly object to a little civility to a pretty girl,” carelessly answered Wilfred. “Nonsense!” returned Mysie, hotly. “We don’t care! only it is not fair on Mr. Delrio.” “The painter cad! A very good thing too! The sacrifice ought to be prevented. Is not that the general sentiment?”