The letter this morning stated that if she could not let him have five shillings that day he would be disgraced, the family would be disgraced, and the doors of a prison might yawn to let him in.
That was silly, of course, and she frowned at his indulging in nonsense at such a time. She had the five shillings, and she could let him have it; but it seemed to her grossly unfair that he should spend his own money and hers too.
The boys were coming over that evening, and Tom asked that he might have the money then. Dorothy decided that the time had come for her to put her foot down firmly on this question of always standing prepared to help him out when he was stoney.
That afternoon they were busy in the gym practising a new set of exercises, and Dorothy was endeavouring to hang by one hand from the cross-bar, while she swung gently to and fro with her right foot held in her left hand—she was succeeding quite well too, and was feeling rather proud of herself—when a chance remark from Blanche Felmore caught her ear.
“The boys are having a fine run of luck this term,” said Blanche, as she poised lightly on the top of the bar to which Dorothy was clinging. “Bob sent me ten shillings yesterday as a present; he says he has won a pot of money this week.”
“How did he do it?” asked a girl standing near.
“They get up sweepstakes among themselves, and they get a lot of fun out of it too,” said Blanche. “Bob told me that half of the boys are nearly cleaned out this week, and——”
Just then Dorothy’s hold gave way, and she fell in a heap, hearing no more, as Blanche fell too.