IV
Mr. Verney and Mary went to Westerfield the next day, leaving a very sulky Harry behind.
“I can’t think why Uncle Herbert didn’t send that money to me,” he grumbled. “Why should a girl like Mary have all this almoning fun? I could almon as well as she can.”
As a matter of fact, Uncle Herbert had made a very wise choice. Harry had none of Mary’s interest in the village, nor had he any of her patience. But in his own way he was a very clever boy. He bowled straight, and knew a linnet’s egg from a greenfinch’s.
Mr. Verney and Mary’s first visit was to the bank, where Mary handed her five-pound note through the bars, and the clerk scooped up four sovereigns and two half-sovereigns in his little copper shovel and poured them into her hand.
Then they bought a penny account-book and went on to Mr. Flower, the ironmonger, to see about Thomas Barnes’ truck. Mr. Flower had a secondhand one for twenty-five shillings, and he promised to touch it up for two shillings more; and he promised, also, that neither he nor his man should ever say anything about it. It was arranged that the barrow should be wrapped up in sacking and taken to Mr. Verney’s, inside the waggon, and be delivered after dark.
“Why do you want it?” Mary asked him.
“That’s a secret,” he said; “you’ll know later.”
Mr. Flower also undertook to send three shillings’ worth of netting to Mrs. Callow, asking her to do him the favour of trying it to see if it were a good strong kind.
Mary and Mr. Verney then walked on to Mr. Costall, the dentist, who was in Westerfield only on Thursdays between ten and four. It was the first time that Mary had ever stood on his doorstep without feeling her heart sink. Mr. Costall, although a dentist, was a smiling, happy man, and he entered into the scheme directly. He said he would write to Mrs. Meadows and ask her to call, saying that some one whom he would not mention had arranged the matter with him. And when Mary asked him how much she should pay him, he said that ten shillings would do. This meant a saving of half a crown.