“For one thing, I must buy you a fairing, Patience, like I used to do when we were children together. Have you forgotten, I wonder, the guinea which I gave you to spend, on the last day I ever spent at home?”
“No, indeed, I have not. I remember it very well,” she answered, blushing.
“Why, is that so? And pray what did you buy with it?” I asked smiling.
“Nothing at all,” said Patience shortly.
“Nothing! What then——”
“I have it by me, somewhere.” She pretended to speak carelessly, but my suspicions were aroused.
“I insist on knowing where, Patience,” I said in a tone of command, such as I have never known her to resist.
“You must find out for yourself, then,” says she, trying to defy me. (For the first and last time, God bless her!)
I took her by the arms and held her firmly.
“Now, Patience, tell me what you have done with my guinea,” I demanded, quite stern.