"I saw a quantity of gold in Brenda's purse. It seems so odd that she should spend a lot of father's money on herself, and so very, very little on us--doesn't it? I don't understand it--do you, girls?" But before the girls could reply, Brenda, looking fresh and captivating, as usual, appeared by their side. "Now, then,"--she said--"home we go. Oh, I am glad to get out of this heat. I think we'll have supper in the garden to-night. It will be lovely under the mulberry tree. What do you say, _petites_? What dear, pretty little darlings you are!" But the pretty little darlings were not in the best of tempers, and Brenda had some trouble in getting them back to good humour. She herself was in excellent spirits, for she had employed Madame Declasse not only to make the dress in a way so sweet as to take the hearts of all who saw her by storm, but was she not also to make her a long white serge dust coat, very fashionable looking and very, very smart, and a little white hat, which would exactly finish off the pale blue costume? and was not Madame Declasse to supply a parasol and gloves, all suited to that distinguished looking young lady, Miss Brenda Carlton? But these small matters Brenda kept to herself. It would never do for the sandy-haired daughters of the Reverend Josiah Amberley to know about them. Her object was to humour them to the very top of their bent until she got them away with her to the seaside, and then--behold! what twenty pounds still quite unspent might not achieve! For the blue silk dress was paid for, and Madame Declasse would not charge for the making up, nor for the parasol, nor the white serge coat, nor the pretty white hat, for a long, long time. It really did not matter to Madame when her little bills were paid. She was quite willing and ready to accommodate her customers. As the little party were driving in by the tumble-down gates, Nina, however, made a remark. She raised her light blue eyes and looked full at Brenda and said, in a tone of question and some alarm: "Do you really, really think, Brenda, that pink muslin is the most suitable sort of dress for red girls like us?" "Of course she doesn't," said Fanchon. Josephine was silent. Brenda looked hastily from one of her pupils to the other. "Listen," she said, "I have considered the subject of your toilettes with the utmost care. Your good father can allow very little for your clothes. He imagines that you will wear stout cotton dresses during your sojourn at Marshlands-on-the-Sea, but I do not intend you to appear in anything so _gauche_. I have, therefore, bought delicate muslin, which will be made up to suit you. Of course pink muslin will suit you; it is _the_ colour for blondes like yourselves." "Blondes, are we?" said Nina--"I thought we were reds!"