"Suppose, Madge, there should be a fortune hidden somewhere in the house?" Madge was scornful. "Suppose!--there's no supposition about it. It's a certainty, I know there is." "And suppose you should find it--it would be yours. What would you do with it?" "What a question! We shall find it all four of us together. It will be share and share alike." "What--Mr. Graham too?" Possibly the question was put maliciously. It provoked Miss Brodie to wrath. "Mr. Graham too? Ella, what can you mean? If it hadn't been for Mr. Graham we should have known nothing whatever about it. I suppose that, in strict equity, the whole of it would be his. Whatever can you mean by saying 'Mr. Graham too?' in such a tone as that!" "My dear, I meant no harm. Really you're a trifle warm--don't you think you are?" "Warm! It's enough to make any one a trifle warm to hear you talk like that." Ella made a little face behind Miss Brodie's back. "Well, fortune or no fortune, I do hope that no more burglars will come and look for it again to-night." "If they do," declared Madge, with a viciousness which presaged violence, "they'll not find us unprepared. I shall sleep with Jack's revolver at my bedside, and if you like you can have half my bed again." Ella's manner was much more mild. "Thank you, my dear; since you're so good--I think I will." CHAPTER X MADGE FINDS HERSELF IN AN AWKWARD SITUATION 'There was no burglar. The night was undisturbed; and the next day was, for both, a busy one. The morning post brought Madge an intimation from a publisher to whom she had submitted one of her MSS., that he would be obliged if, when she was in town, she would call on him, so that she might discuss with him terms for its publication. That business-like memorandum made her heart beat faster; sent the blood coursing quickly through her veins; added a sparkle to her eyes. This, after all, was the sort of fortune she preferred--one for which she had striven with her own brains and hands--better than hidden hoards! The simple breakfast became an Elysian feast. Ella was almost as jubilant as she herself was. "Northcote & Co? That's a good house, isn't it?" "Rather. They published----" Madge reeled off the names of two or three pronounced fictional successes. "How much do you think they'll give you for it?" "In cash?--not much; don't you think I shall bring home the Bank of England. So long as they give me a fair share of anything it may ultimately bring, I'll be content. But it isn't that; it's getting the first footing on the ladder--that's the thing." "Of course it is. How splendid! And I'll tell you what; you shall dedicate it to me, and then if it sells by the hundred thousand, I shall have a bit of your fame." "Done!--and your name upon the flyleaf ought to help to sell the book: it's as well known as mine is, anyhow. The author's spoken--you shall be the dedicatee?"