‘At all events, I think I will take him down with me to see the rest of us taken,’ she says presently in a depressed voice. ‘It will amuse and interest him. You know how clever he is.’ ‘Yes, by all means, and I’ll take Tommy,’ says Betty, ‘though goodness knows if after that we shall any of us come out alive.’ * * * * * Susan has started very early (it is only ten minutes after one), so as to give Bonnie plenty of time to get down to the village without fatigue. Miss Ricketty will give him a seat in her place; a penny out of the last sixpence will buy him a cake or some sweets; and then, with a little rest, he can easily go on to the room rented to the photographer by Mr. Salter, the hardware Methodist. She has now reached Miss Ricketty’s, and has been welcomed by that excellent if slightly eccentric spinster with open arms. Bonnie is literally in her arms—and now is ensconced in the cosiest corner of this cosy little shop, behind the tiny gateway. Indeed, Miss Ricketty is preparing in a surreptitious manner to bring down a jar of unspeakably beautiful bull’s-eyes for Bonnie’s delectation, when Susan intervenes. ‘No—no indeed, dear Miss Ricketty. He has a penny of his own to-day. And he loves buying. Don’t you, Bonnie? Another day, perhaps. And I think a cake would be better for him, don’t you? You would rather have a Queen cake, Bonnie darling, wouldn’t you?’—appealingly. ‘Yes,’ says Bonnie, out of the sweetness of his nature, seeing she desires it, though his soft eyes are dwelling on the lollipops. But that he can’t have both is a foregone conclusion, as Susan tells herself with a sigh. The remaining fivepence will have to do many things until next week, when father will give her her tiny weekly allowance again. Besides, a cake is ever so much better for him than bull’s-eyes. Thus Susan consoles herself. ‘Are you goin’ to be took, Miss Susan?’ asks Miss Ricketty, settling herself, as she calls it, for a good chat. Susan laughs. ‘Not by the sergeant, any way,’ says she. ‘Ah, ye will have yer joke now. An’, sure, I’m a silly old fool. But ye’re goin’ to have yer picture done, aren’t ye? Fegs, ’twould be a shame if ye didn’t. ’Tis a mighty purty picture would be lost to the world if you held back. Why, all the world is crowdin’ to that man’s door. I saw Lady Millbank go in just now. An’ at her time o’ life! Law, the vanity o’ some folk! D’ye know what me brother said to me to-day?’ ‘What?’ asks Susan, who is growing interested. ‘Whether I wouldn’t like to see me own face on a card. An’ I tould him as I had seen it for sixty years in a lookin’-glass, an’ that was good enough for me.’