"In your purse," said the old woman. "On the blessed money. On the shillings and sixpences, my dear."
"Of course," said Janet, laughing too; and she drew out her purse and looked at the money it contained. There was half a sovereign and half a crown and some smaller coins; but none were new ones: all were of Victoria's reign.
"What a pity!" said the old woman again—"perhaps one of your brothers or sisters has some more. Not the old blackguard driving, of course."
"Yes," said Janet; "I'll see;" and descended the steps, and soon after returned with an Edward shilling.
The old woman took it and examined head. "I was right," she said, "God bless him! He was as thin on the top as my own poor father was, rest his soul! Well, dear, and now I'll say good-bye," she added soon after, as she rose to her feet and gave the shilling back. "If you'll make that spalpeen stop, I'll get down, for me daughter's cottage is just over there, across fields. Thank you very kindly for the tea and your sweet company. Good-bye, good bye," she called, "and the saints protect you all!" and she hobbled off through a gate in the hedge.
At Alverminster Gregory insisted upon buying some acid-drops, and went to Janet for a penny. But when she came to feel for her purse it was not to be found. She hunted everywhere in the caravan, but in vain.
"When did you have it last?" Kink asked. "You haven't bought anything to-day."
"No," said Janet, "but I had it out when the old Irishwoman was there."
"I guessed she'd get some money out of you," said Kink.
"Oh, Kink!" said Janet; "she didn't. And after I had promised, too! All she wanted to see was King Edward's head on a coin."