"Well, well--I know nothing about it," exclaimed Fanchon. "I only know that she did give it to me. Perhaps she inherited it from a relation. She wanted me to be friends with her, anyhow, and so she gave it to me, although I was not to have it for my absolute very, very own until we return to Harroway." "Well--I shouldn't think you would much value _that_ thing!" exclaimed Nina, kicking the false bangle across the room with her foot. Josie ran and picked it up. "It's better than nothing," she cried, "but of course it is common. Now of course our brooches--" "Your brooches are common too," said Fanchon. "No, they're not; they're very, very elegant: any one would take them to be real." "What--without the hall-mark?" queried Fanchon. "People as a rule don't ask you to take your brooch off in order to see the hall-mark!" exclaimed Josie. "Don't be silly, Fanchon, you can never wear that bangle, for it is too coarse for anything. But we can, and _will_--wear our brooches. We'll wear them every Sunday regularly, when we get home. And won't the children at Sunday school be impressed! I can fancy I see all their eyes resting on mine--I think mine with the pearls is even more elegant than Nina's with the turquoise." "Well, come out now," said Fanchon. "The whole thing is disgusting. Of course Brenda will discover very soon that the bangle is changed." "She won't be surprised, because she did it herself," said Nina. "No--that she didn't! I am certain sure she would not be quite so mean--I don't believe it of her!" exclaimed Fanchon. The three little Amberleys walked and talked alone that afternoon, while Brenda and Penelope sat on the quay. Brenda earnestly hoped that the redoubtable Harry would pass that way and see her with her elegant sister. "I always did think you a fearfully plain girl, Penelope," said her sister, "and of course you are plain. But you are mixing in such good society that it is beginning to affect you. You seem to me to have undergone a sort of transformation. You are--of course you're quite ugly still; but you are--I can't explain what it is--different from the rest of us." "You don't look too happy, Brenda," was Penelope's next remark. "I happy?" answered Brenda. "Oh--I'm well enough." "We're very happy at the Castle," continued Penelope. "Honora is so sweet, and all the other children are nice, and--I wish you could know something of our life--it is a little bit higher than this, somehow." Brenda kicked a pebble restlessly away with the toe of her smart shoe. "I am not suited for that sort of life," she said. "I don't care for your Castle, but all the same, I think you may as well get me invited there again. What day can we come?" "I don't know: how can I get invitations for you?" "You'll be perfectly horrid if you don't--it is your duty to give your own, own sister a good time." "Oh, Brenda--if only you'd be different!"