"Well?" absently.
"Well"—utterly unabashed—"finally we divided it into four half-sovereigns. With one we bought a present for mother, and were going to do the same for Dora, only she said she would rather have the money itself than anything we would select. Then Billy bought a puppy he had been longing for for a month with the third, besides a lot of white rats—odious little things with no hair on their tails—and a squirrel; and—and that's all," I wind up abruptly.
"What did you do with the other half-sovereign? asks 'Duke, more from want of something to say than from any overpowering curiosity.
"Oh, nothing—nothing," I answer, feeling slightly confused, I don't know why. "I cannot remember, it is so long ago."
"Only the year before last, by your own account, and I know your memory to be excellent. Come, tell me what you did with it."
As he grows obstinate, so do I, and therefore answer with gay evasion.
"What would I do with it but one thing? Of course I bought a present for my sweetheart."
Surely some capricious spirit inhabits this room. For the second time since we entered it Marmaduke's countenance lowers.
"Why, what is the matter now?" I ask, impatiently. "What are you looking so cross about?"
"I am not cross," indignantly. "What is there to make me so? There is no reason why you should not have innumerable sweethearts as well as every other woman."