“You’ve got no pocket-money, Dickie,” said Pennie.
“She’s got her slug-money,” observed David. This property of Dickie’s consisted of the payment for slugs and snails which she collected in a flower-pot and delivered to Andrew for execution. He kept the account chalked up in the potting shed, and when it reached a hundred, Dickie was entitled to ask her father for a penny.
“I call it a shame to take her slug-money,” cried out Nancy from the swing.
“No one wants to take it,” replied Pennie, “but she shall give it if she likes.”
“I call it a stupid old plan, with nothing pleasant about it at all,” were Nancy’s last words as they all left the barn.
Pennie tried to treat those remarks with indifference, but she was in truth wounded and discouraged by them, and felt, moreover, that they were likely to affect the boys unfavourably. She observed that Ambrose became very thoughtful as they approached the house, and presently he asked in an off-hand manner:
“How long do you suppose it will take us to buy a mandarin?”
Pennie could not say, but she thought it might be a long while, because she had heard that china figures of that sort were expensive, “and of course,” she added, “we must get one of the very best.”
“Oh, of course!” said Ambrose at once. But he began to reflect that it would be very dull never to have any pocket-money to spend, and to wish that he had followed David’s prudent example. He could not possibly draw back now, but he hoped the mandarin might not prove quite so expensive as Pennie thought.
Pennie herself hardly knew what to think about the success of her plan. It certainly had not been received very heartily, but there was no reason why it should fail if Ambrose and David would remain true to their promise. That was the question. Much patience and self-denial would be needed, and it was unfortunate that next month there would be a great temptation in the way—Cheddington Fair.