“Oh! yes, yes,” cried the children in raptures.
“Will you help, Miss Fosbrook?” said Susan, clasping her hands.
“I should like to do a very little, if you will take this silver threepenny; but I do not think it would be right for me to spare one penny more, for all I can afford is very much wanted at home.”
“What shall we have for treasury?” said Hal, looking round.
“I know!” cried Susan. “Here, in the baby-house; here’s the Toby, let’s put it inside him.”
The so-called baby-house was an old-fashioned cupboard with glass doors, where certain tender dolls, and other curiosities, playthings too frail to be played with and the like, were ranged in good order, and never taken out except when some one child was unwell, and had to stay in-doors alone.
Toby Fillpot was a present from Nurse Freeman. It was a large mug, representing a man with a red coat, black hat, and white waistcoat, very short legs, and top-boots. The opening of the cup was at the top of his head, and into this was dropped all the silver and pence at present mustered, and computed to be about four shillings.
“And, Miss Fosbrook, you’ll not be cross about fines?” said Johnnie, looking coaxing.
“I hope I shall not be cross,” she answered; “but I do not engage to let you off any. I think having so good a use to put your money to should make you more careful against forfeiting it.”
“Yes,” said Johnnie disconsolately.