But Anthea was a really first-class sister. She did not say a word till she had got out the Scotch heather-mixture fingering wool and the darning-needle and the thimble and the scissors, and by that time she had been able to get the better of her natural wish to be thoroughly disagreeable, and was able to say quite kindly—
‘Never mind, Squirrel, I’ll soon mend it.’
Cyril thumped her on the back. He understood exactly how she had felt, and he was not an ungrateful brother.
‘Respecting the purse containing coins,’ the Phoenix said, scratching its invisible ear thoughtfully with its shining claw, ‘it might be as well, perhaps, to state clearly the amount which you wish to find, as well as the country where you wish to find it, and the nature of the coins which you prefer. It would be indeed a cold moment when you should find a purse containing but three oboloi.’
‘How much is an oboloi?’
‘An obol is about twopence halfpenny,’ the Phoenix replied.
‘Yes,’ said Jane, ‘and if you find a purse I suppose it is only because some one has lost it, and you ought to take it to the policeman.’
‘The situation,’ remarked the Phoenix, ‘does indeed bristle with difficulties.’
‘What about a buried treasure,’ said Cyril, ‘and every one was dead that it belonged to?’
‘Mother wouldn’t believe THAT,’ said more than one voice.