“Well, mother will give me something, and John and Mr. Leslie will give me five or ten shillings, and I have got seven myself; I think I can afford a sovereign altogether. You must give something, too, Charlie, you know.” “That’s all the money I have,” said Charlie, putting his hands into his pockets and producing twopence halfpenny. “That won’t go far,” he added, ruefully. “Never mind, it will help. I do hope Gibbons will let us have it for a pound,” answered Fairy; and buoyed up with this hope, she walked into Brighton, a good eight miles, without once complaining of being tired. The bird-stuffer, who knew Charlie well, showed them the grebe with pride; but, alas! Fairy soon learnt that the price was far beyond her means, and feeling very much disappointed, for Jack’s sake, she half repented having taken such a long walk, especially as by the time they left the shop the fog had come on very thick, and the short November day was coming to a close. In spite of this, Charlie insisted on going to the beach to look at the sea for a few minutes, though it was quite out of their way, and Fairy, tired as she was, could not refuse to oblige him when he had come so far to oblige her. Happily a very brief peep at the dull, grey sea in this deepening fog satisfied Charlie, but, nevertheless, it was five o’clock before they started on their eight miles walk back to Lewes, and by the time they were quite clear of the town, which in those days was very much smaller than at present, and on the Lewes-road it was so dark they could not see the road before them, and were obliged to walk slowly in consequence; moreover, Fairy was so tired she hardly knew how to drag one leg before the other. “There is one comfort,” said Charlie, “it is a straight road; we can’t lose our way, and perhaps we shall meet someone who will give us a lift.” “I wish we could. How dark it is, Charlie. Are we half way yet, do you think?” asked poor Fairy, whose little feet were so sore she could not keep up with Charlie. “Half-way? No, not a quarter yet. You are tired, I know, though you won’t own it. I told you it was too far for you; here, take hold of my arm, and I’ll help you along,” said Charlie. Thus encouraged, Fairy plodded on for another mile or so, during which time one or two carts passed them, but either could not or would not hear their requests for a lift, and one so nearly ran over them in the darkness that they ceased to wish for any more to pass. But before they were half-way home Fairy declared she must stop and rest a little, and Charlie, who knew if anything happened to her he would get all the blame, began to get frightened lest she should faint or be taken ill on the road, far away as they were from any village. “Will you let me try and carry you, Fairy?” he asked. “You?” laughed Fairy, in spite of her fatigue; “you carry me? Why, I doubt if Jack could, even. No, thank you; let me rest a little on this tree I nearly fell over, and then I’ll go on again.”