"But she had told you to take your waterproof to school with you as the weather was so uncertain, and you wouldn't," Angel reminded him; "you ought to have obeyed her, you know. You came home drenched to the skin, and she had the trouble of drying all your clothes."
"She's only a servant! She has no right to dictate to us!"
"Oh yes, she has! Father said we were to do all we could to please her."
Gerald argued no further, for he well knew Angel never yielded a point which she considered right. The children were in the dining-room, where they were just finishing their lessons. Work ended, they put away their books and strolled out of doors, making their way to the kitchen garden, where Mrs. Vallance and Polly were busily occupied in picking raspberries for preserving. Angel at once volunteered her help, which was gladly accepted; and Gerald, after refreshing himself with a goodly quantity of the luscious fruit, wandered aimlessly towards the house, and finally went by the back door into the kitchen.
The kitchen at Haresdown House, the window of which commanded an uninterrupted view of the whole of the back garden, was a very pleasant room, and the picture of neatness. Gerald's roving eyes wandered from the gay prints which decorated the walls to the shining tin and copper articles on the mantel-piece, and from thence to an open workbox and a desk on a side table. The desk was locked, but the key had been left in the lock. Gerald wondered what was inside; and impelled by curiosity, and never reflecting that his action was dishonourable, he unlocked the desk, opened it, and examined its contents—a few sheets of notepaper, a parcel of envelopes, pens, and a dainty little tortoise-shell box, which he lifted with careful fingers.
"I expect this was a present," he thought; "how pretty it is! I wonder if it belongs to Mrs. Vallance or Polly—to Mrs. Vallance, I suppose." He opened it, and to his astonishment saw it contained several pieces of gold and a crisp five-pound note.
Gerald's eyes sparkled enviously at the sight. How he wished one of those bright sovereigns was his, then he would soon be out of debt. A sigh broke from his lips as he counted the coins. One—two—three sovereigns, and one—two—three—four half-sovereigns! He wondered if Mrs. Vallance knew how much money was there, and if it was hers, or if his uncle had given it to her for household expenses during his absence. If he had one of those sovereigns it would make him quite happy he thought, for Reginald Hope had hinted to him only that morning that he would require some money from him soon.
He glanced out of the window, and uttered an exclamation of alarm. Angel and Polly were still gathering raspberries; but Mrs. Vallance, having filled her dish, was coming towards the house to empty it. Acting on the impulse of the moment, Gerald hastily abstracted one of the sovereigns, replaced the tortoise-shell box where he had found it, shut the desk, locked it, and met the housekeeper at the back door as she was coming in. She looked at him sharply, struck by something peculiar in his expression; but he brushed by her, and went out into the garden without a word.
He was in high, unnatural spirits for the remainder of the evening; and at supper kept up an incessant flow of conversation, making wild plans as to how the summer holidays should be spent.
"Tom Mickle is talking of camping out," he said, "but Gilbert doesn't seem keen to join him. I wish father would let me! Wouldn't it be fun?"