So, to Sarah’s dismay, she bought lavishly of many things--frocks, boots, smart pinafores, a pretty, light summer jacket, and two hats, one a white sailor hat, the other a black trimmed one for best. "Do you take cold easy, Sarah?" Mrs. Stubbs inquired, pausing as they went out of the showroom before a huge pile of furs. "I think I do rather, Auntie; and I had bronchitis last year." "That settles it!" her aunt exclaimed. "I don’t believe in bronchitis and doctors’ bills; waste of money, I call it. You shall ’ave a fur cape." Now for two years past the dream of Sarah’s life had been to possess a fur cape--"a beautiful, warm, soft, and lovely fur cape," as she expressed it; but until now, poor child, she had never dared to think it might ever be more than a dream--that it might come to be a possibility or a reality. The sudden realization was almost too much for her. She gave a little gasp of delight, and squeezed her aunt’s arm _hard_. "Oh, Auntie!" she whispered, with a sob of delight, "what shall I ever do for you?" "Nay, nay! don’t, Sarah!" Mrs. Stubbs expostulated, fearing the child was going to break down. "Be a good girl and love your aunt, that’s all, dear." "Oh, Auntie, I do, I do!" Sarah whispered back; "but if only Father knew--if only he knew!" "Why, maybe he does," said Mrs. Stubbs kindly. "But come, Sarah, my dear, let us try your cape on. We are wasting this gentleman’s time." The gentleman in question protested that it was of no consequence, and begged Mrs. Stubbs not to hurry herself. But time was passing, and Mrs. Stubbs wanted to get home again, so she urged Sarah to be quick. Ten minutes later Sarah was the proud possessor of a beautiful brown fur cape, just a little large for her, "that she might have room to grow," but so warm and cosy, and so entirely to her liking, that, in spite of the sultry day, the child would willingly have kept it on and gone home in it. She did not, however, dare to propose it to her aunt, and if she had done so Mrs. Stubbs had far too much good sense to have allowed it. So they went home gaily enough to lunch, which was the young folk’s dinner, but not without a petition from May that they should stop at some nice shop and have ices. "It will spoil your dinner!" exclaimed Mrs. Stubbs. "Oh, no, Mother," said May, who sometimes called her mother so. "And Sarah _ought_ to have an ice the very first time she has ever had a drive with you." Thus pressed, Mrs. Stubbs gave in, and stopped the carriage at a confectioner’s in Regent Street. "I’ll have Vanilla," said May. "Which are you going to have, Sarah?" "Whichever you like," said Sarah, who had never tasted an ice in her life, and was thus gaining another new experience. "Try strawberry, then," said May, "and then we can help one another to a spoonful."