"I suppose so, Aunt Pamela. I remember Neil Munro because he was very friendly with Rupert and Lionel, and used to come home with them sometimes, but I did not know anything about his mother or father."
Miss Pamela looked contemplative. She sat tapping the ground with one foot and following the design of the carpet with the top of her sunshade.
"How the boys will love it by the sea!" Marigold continued, smiling, as she pictured their enjoyment. "I daresay they will have bathing, and boating, and fishing, and all the rest of it! I don't know that I ever felt so glad about anything before!"
"Your mother will be lonely without them," Miss Holcroft said gently.
"Yes; but she will not mind that if they are happy."
"Mary," said Miss Pamela abruptly, "if these boys are going to have a holiday, and visit rich people, they will probably want new clothes, and a little money in their pockets, eh?"
"Of course they will, Pamela," her sister agreed; adding, with an appealing glance and in a lower tone, "We must remember they are poor Rupert's sons."
"Marigold shall make them a present," Miss Pamela continued. "You shall write to your mother to-night, child, and enclose something for her to spend on the boys."
Marigold grew red with mingled emotions—surprise and pleasure being the chief.
"Oh, Aunt Pamela!" she cried.