The Youngest Girl in the Fifth. Angela Brazil

had happened.

      "We shall be very glad if you will do that," she said. "And will you please tell us what we have to pay extra?"

      The man took the bill which had been enclosed in the box and rapidly glanced over the items.

      "Let me see—teapot, cream jug, three cups, four plates—the sugar basin is all right—ah! but this saucer is cracked! Sixteen and six, seventeen and nine—it will be exactly one pound two and sixpence, please."

      Gwen felt ready to sink through the floor. She had very little notion of the value of things, and could hardly believe that china cost so much. She looked blankly and helplessly at Netta, who after a moment's pause met the emergency.

      "We haven't the money with us this afternoon, I'm afraid, but we'll bring it to-morrow without fail. Will that do?"

      "Yes, thank you, miss, I dare say it will be all right if you give me the name."

      "Miss Gwen Gascoyne," said Netta promptly.

      "At Rodenhurst, I suppose?"

      "Yes."

      That ended the transaction, so the two girls left the shop.

      "Well, Gwen, my child, you've let yourself in for a nice little bill!" laughed Netta, when they found themselves in the street.

      "It's impossible! I can't pay it!" gasped Gwen, with hot tears trickling down her cheeks. "What am I to do?"

      "Turn along this quiet road immediately, and don't stand mopping your eyes in the middle of High Street! Everybody's staring at you. I believe the policeman's going to ask if you're lost!"

      And seizing her schoolmate by the arm, Netta hustled her away from the unwelcome attention which she was attracting. The road led to the promenade, where the girls found an unoccupied bench, and sat down to talk matters over.

      "One pound two and sixpence!" ejaculated Gwen, with a sob between the words.

      "And five shillings we promised Emma, so that makes twenty-seven and six," agreed Netta briskly. "Of course it was you who broke the china, so it's your business to pay for it, but I'll go shares in squaring Emma."

      "I can't—I can't ever pay it! Oh, I wish I was at the bottom of the sea!" wailed Gwen.

      "Don't be an idiot! It must be managed somehow. How much have you got at home?"

      "I've about fifteen shillings in my money-box."

      "Well, look here, I'll lend you ten, and that will just do it. We'll each give Emma half a crown to make her hold her tongue, and we'll settle up Parker, and then the thing will be done with. You may pay me back as soon as you can."

      "You're a white angel!"

      "No, I'm not. I'm anything but a saintly person. I'm ready to help a chum out of a hole, though. I'll bring the money to school with me to-morrow morning. And now, for goodness sake, do wipe your eyes, and put your hat on straight, and try and make yourself look respectable enough to walk down the promenade. I want to go home."

      "So do I," said Gwen. "What's the time? I mustn't miss the next bus."

      "It's twenty past five."

      "Oh, horrors! And the bus goes at half-past! Can I possibly catch it?"

      "I'll say goodbye if you're going to pelt along the promenade. I hate rushing."

      "Goodbye! And thank you a hundred thousand times!"

      It was only as Gwen was scurrying along the asphalted walk that it struck her that, after all, Netta was getting rather easily out of the scrape. Of course she, Gwen, had knocked over the box of china, but it was Netta who had taken her into Miss Roscoe's room, and who was therefore in a sense responsible for the whole affair. Well, she was glad enough to find help on any terms; she did not know how she was going to repay Netta the money, but that might wait. It was sufficient for the present that the tea set could be replaced without any fear of discovery. She hurried breathlessly on, fearing to miss the omnibus; taking any short cuts she knew, and breaking into a run when she reached the Ditton Road. She could see the omnibus standing at its starting-place, and hoped it might be just possible to arrive in time. As she tore along the footpath, she noticed a boy a few yards in front of her who was running equally quickly, or even faster.

      "I wonder if he's trying to catch it too?" she thought, and envied his longer legs and freedom from hampering skirts. "Oh! it's actually going! What a shame!"

      The boy made a spurt, and shouted and whistled after the retreating omnibus, but it was not of the slightest avail; neither the conductor nor the driver took any notice. Realizing the hopelessness of his efforts, the boy stopped and saw Gwen, who came panting up.

      "No use, it's gone too far!" he exclaimed. "It's an atrocious swindle! Those men never look. I suppose you were trying to catch it too?"