So much for the first five hundred.
V
Alison had then to lay out the second five hundred, or £6 5s., on herself and herself alone. This was easier. She and her father spent three afternoons among the old furniture shops of Kensington and the Brompton Road, and at last came upon the very thing they were looking for in the back room of a shop close to the Oratory, kept by an elderly Jewish lady with a perfectly gigantic nose and rings on every finger.
This was an old bureau writing-desk, with drawers, and a flap to pull down to write on, and lots of pigeon-holes, and a very strong lock. Also a secret drawer. After some bargaining Mr. Muirhead got it for six pounds, which left five shillings for writing paper and sealing-wax and blotting-paper and nibs.
And that was an end of the thousand threepenny bits, as the balance-sheet on the opposite page shows.
At least, not quite the end, as I will tell you. The face of the old Jewess, when the time came to pay for the bureau and Alison took forty-eight little packets of ten threepenny bits each out of her bag and laid them on the table, was a picture of perplexity and amusement.
“Well, ma tear, what’s that?” she asked.
“Four hundred and eighty threepenny bits—six pounds,” said Alison.
“But, ma tear, what will I do with all the little money?”
“It’s all I’ve got,” said Alison.