"The block will cost twelve and sixpence, that is to say."
"Twelve and six?" she repeated once more.
But she gave him the money; controlling her annoyance at the idea that this young man might be making a profit out of her innocence, she conducted him cheerfully to the door and presented him with a tulip from one of Dolly's flower-pots.
"You're fond of gardening?" he asked, with half-open note-book.
"I adore flowers," said Dorothy. "Good-by."
To her mother she explained the sad necessity she had been under of having to give away her favorite photograph.
"But, mother, I'll write for another one," she promised.
"Oh, Norah dear, I hope you will," said Mrs. Caffyn, much distressed.
"Only, as they're rather expensive, you won't mind giving me a guinea, will you?" Dorothy murmured, with a frown for the old "Norah."
"No, darling Norah—darling child, I mean, of course not. I'd no idea you were spending your salary like that," said Mrs. Caffyn, searching in her purse for the money.