"To prison?" cried Fred; "but surely your father--" "Oh, I mean a school--it's all the same. Don't interrupt me, Fred. When my mind is full I must rattle off the speech somehow." "And he wants you to send him ten pounds?" "Yes." "And have you got ten pounds to send him?" "To be sure I have--I have ten pounds ten. I am an awful girl for spending money. I bought a whole pound's worth of chocolate yesterday. I only wish I had the money now instead; but poor little Agnes Moore and the other girls in my class, they do love chocolate, and they quite seem to fatten them. I bought the chocolates, and I have got ten shillings in my pocket." "But you showed me a whole purseful of gold the other day," said Fred. "Well, it's gone, Fred, and it isn't gone; but I know who could help me to find it if I could catch a sight of her." "And who is that?" asked Fred. "Elma Lewis." "Elma Lewis! Do you like her?" "I can't say that I like her--no I don't think I do; but she would help me, if I could only get to see her." "Then, do you want me to go to her house and tell her so?" "Why, Fred, that's a splendid idea. You are a jewel, a darling, a duck! Let me fetch my hat, and you and I will go together." "But I don't know my lessons yet. It is that beastly German. I have pages to translate. It is such rot." "Oh, what does the German matter? Think of the misery poor Laurie is in. Just stay where you are, Fred; I'll be back in a minute." Kitty dashed upstairs, two or three steps at a time, and thundered a loud tattoo on the locked door of Alice's bedroom. "You cannot come in, whoever you are," cried Alice from within. "Yes, but I must, Alice, aroon; let me in, jewel that you are. I want my hat, and gloves and jacket, nothing else. Do, for goodness' sake, let me in, Alice, asthore!" But Alice was obdurate. Once let Kitty in, she would never be able to get rid of her again, and her lessons must be learned. They were specially difficult and required all her attention. "Then if you won't," cried Kitty, whose quick temper was beginning to rise, "at least fling the things out of the window." "You know you must not go out at this hour." "If you won't give them to me," said Kitty, "I'll go without them." "You are not to have them; you are not to go out. It isn't right," called Alice, who felt strong in the cause of virtue. Kitty rattled violently on the handle for a moment longer, and then rushed downstairs again to where Fred was waiting. "I can't get my hat," she said; "but it doesn't matter. I'll go as I am." Now Kitty's dress was more picturesque than suitable. She had on a crimson blouse and a skirt bedizened with many ribbons and frills. The blouse had only elbow sleeves and was cut rather low in the neck. Nothing could be more becoming to the dancing eyes, the rose-bloom cheeks, the head of dark hair.