"I wish Miss Kaye would take me shopping on Saturday," said Sylvia. "It's Sadie Thompson's turn. I wonder if I could coax her to change with me."
It was Miss Kaye's custom to allow four of the girls to go with her each Saturday morning to Aberglyn and assist with her marketing. They were trusted to make some of the purchases, to teach them the value of money, and were expected to put down a neat account afterwards of what they had spent. It was a privilege to which they greatly looked forward, and it had not yet fallen to Sylvia's share. By dint, however, of a good deal of persuasion, added to the gift of her cedarwood pencil box, she induced Sadie Thompson to let her have the next turn; and, as Miss Kaye made no objection to the exchange, she found herself included among the favoured few.
Nothing could have been more fortunate. The party consisted of Mercy Ingledew, Trissie Knowles, from the second class, herself, and Nessie Hirst, and they started off in brisk spirits.
In every shop and street Sylvia's eyes were busy seeking for the two ladies; but though in the distance she thought she caught a glimpse of the short one, she found out on a nearer view that she was mistaken. They went at last into the markethall, where Miss Kaye was soon busy at a glass and china stall, replenishing some of the school crockery which had been broken.
"You little ones," she said, "may go and buy me a pennyworth of parsley and three lemons. Be sure you choose lemons with nice smooth rinds, and bring back the right change for a shilling."
Sylvia and Nessie ran off together to the fruiterer's, proud of their errand, and were just engaged in calculating the cost of three lemons at three-halfpence each, when Sylvia gave a gasp of astonishment and delight. Round the corner, and actually coming to their stall, appeared the tall, fair lady and the short, fat one. They stopped to enquire the price of pears, and stood so near that the long crêpe mantle of the former was actually brushing against Sylvia's hat. She trembled all over with excitement. Dare she do it? Could she really pluck up her courage and speak to this unknown stranger? She tried half a dozen times, but the words stuck in her throat. Yet she felt she must make the effort, for perhaps Mercy's happiness might hang upon this one solitary chance.
"If you please," she began in a very small trembling voice, and touching the lady's sleeve with her hand. But the lady was too busy buying pears to notice, and only fumbled in her pocket for her purse.
"If you please," tried Sylvia again, speaking rather louder this time.
"I think this little girl wishes to ask you something," said the short, fat lady, addressing her friend.
The tall, fair one turned suddenly round towards Sylvia.