"Thanks awfully, Dick," said Joan, as he took out his sovereign purse, "but I think we'd rather you didn't. You see, it's rather a special occasion—the poor old Starling going away—and we wanted to give her something that would really cost us something."
"I agree with my sister," said Nancy. "But thanks awfully all the same, Dick. You're always a brick."
"Well, I respect the delicacy of your feelings, Twanks," said Dick. "But isn't anybody ever going to be allowed to contribute to the camera fund? How long does the embargo last?"
"There's a good deal in that," said Joan thoughtfully. "Of course we can't refuse tips for ever, can we, Nancy?"
Nancy thought not. "Let's say in a month from to-day," she suggested. "If Dick likes to give us something then and happens to remember it—of course, we shan't remind him—then I think we might accept without feeling pigs."
"I'll make a note of that," said Dick gravely, "when I get home."
CHAPTER IV
THE DOWER-HOUSE
Surrounded by its winter woods and an over-thick growth of evergreens, the little Jacobean hall, which had for centuries been the second home of the Clintons of Kencote, had an air slightly depressing as Dick and the twins came to it through the yew-enclosed garden at the back. White blinds were down behind all the leaded mullioned windows, only one thin thread of smoke rose into the sky from the carved and twisted chimney-stacks.