"Yes, Cousin Robert," she replied.
"You must learn to be economical, child," he continued gravely, as he gave her fourpence in exchange for four stamps; "take care of your money—take care of it. Your uncle is very generous, very!"
"Oh, yes," she cried; "there's no one so kind as dear Uncle Dick!"
"He'll never die a rich man," he responded, as he turned away.
By this time the little girl was overcoming her first dislike to her new home. Cousin Robert, when he took any notice of her, which was not often, spoke to her kindly; Maria was her very good friend; and John Monday seemed to enjoy a chat with her if Mr. Harding was not near to put a check on his speech. Mousey was perfectly satisfied with the plain food which was provided for the household, for she had not been accustomed to luxuries; in fact, she could remember certain occasions when she and her mother had scarcely had enough money to get the necessaries of life; so she never grumbled as John Monday did—though not in his master's hearing—if the dinner was not to his liking.
One day Mousey was informed that she was to go to school on the following Monday.
"I hope you'll be a good girl," Mr. Harding said, "and learn all you possibly can. Remember that most probably you will have your own living to get one of these days, and it's to your advantage to get as much knowledge as you can."
"Yes, Cousin Robert," she replied earnestly; "you will see how hard I shall try to get on."
"And remember, too, that schooling costs money. If you don't make use of the advantages I give you, you might just as well put your hand into my pocket and rob me. Do you understand that, eh?"
Mousey looked somewhat alarmed, for Mr. Harding's sharp eyes seemed to be piercing her through and through. She longed to say that she was not a thief, and hoped she never would be, but a choking sensation in her throat made her incapable of speech.