"That ain’t where it belongs! New to the business, ain’t yer?" scoffed the urchin. "That is where it is going to stay," Denis said firmly. "I never tempt Providence." Nell came forward with an air. "Young man, hand them over to me! I really am surprised at Mrs. Jel—Jelks! I will arrange the tea things." As the urchin took the parcel from her, he said in a confidential aside:— "Tell yer wot it is, miss, ’e’s too ’igh and mighty for ’is business!" "I expect so. You can see that he is consumed with conceit." The urchin nodded his head towards Molly. "That young lidy’s just laughing at ’im, ain’t she?" Nell declared with an airy recklessness, "Oh, they’re all maniacs!" He trotted off, parcel under arm, and the maniacs sent "Happy Christmasses" after him. "Nell O’Brien," Denis exclaimed, "that for your impertinent pate!" The woolly rabbit bit her brow. A dog followed, a ball, an elephant, a brush—then Molly burst out, "Mrs. J-J-Jelks!" Mrs. Jelks received a fur monkey on her plump shoulder. She was wiping her eyes, but her laughter was dying, killed by her disapproval of the toy storm. "Please, sir, I—couldn’t afford to pay breakages! O dear! Well, it was as good as a play, I do declare. I only come back because you was getting too free with my goods. ’Ere’s your biscuit, doggie." She bent down slowly to K.K. Denis gazed at her back. "Jelly, valley, and twenty-four year ’ave Jelks and me," he murmured serenely. Molly fled. "Were you list’nin’?" Sheila Pat demanded. "Did you think I’d leave my shop all that while, my dear? I’ve been a-watching you through the spy-’ole. You’ve broke one or two things, sir!" "Oh, we’ll buy them. We like ’em broken." "Well, now, I’ve never ’eard anyone say that before. And you sold that table and tea-set at half price—" "Oh, that’s all right! We’ll pay the difference." "I thought that was what you’d do, sir." They began choosing toys again. Sheila Pat, on whom the fever of bargain-hunting had descended, asked earnestly if Mrs. Jelks hadn’t any broken toys. Mrs. Jelks nearly subsided on to a piled-up heap of pots and pans, under the impression that they were a chair. "Well," she gasped, "_more_ broken toys! Well, I never did!" Molly crept back and took part in the choosing. "I think that’s all," Nell said at last. "Yes, miss. I’ve kep’ count. That’ll be eleven and threepence." "_How_ much?" "Eleven and threepence, miss." They began to laugh. "Denis, we didn’t mean to go beyond two or three shillings! I wouldn’t have thought if we’d bought _pounds’_ worth of fourpenny halfpenny things, it could have come to that!" Mrs. Jelks did not deliver goods at houses, and she had no brown paper. So the O’Briens marched forth laden heavily with weird-shaped newspaper parcels. It happened that Ted Lancaster, in a silk hat, long fawn coat, and immaculate patent-leather boots, came strolling across their path. Over a large and bulging Noah’s ark up went Nell’s head.