"There, my dear," he said, as he handed her his despised old suit, neatly folded, "you can inform Maria that I'll pay a visit to a tailor, and order a fine new suit to be sent home by Sunday. Tell her she can give those old things to the next beggar that comes to the door."
Mousey ran off to the kitchen, where she found Maria still indignant at having been accused of a love for fine clothes, and delivered Mr. Harding's message word for word. Maria looked as though she could hardly believe she had heard aright.
"What shall I hear next, I wonder?" she questioned sarcastically. "What made him change his mind? There, put those things down anywhere! I'm to give them to a beggar, am I? It strikes me there are few beggars who would thank me for such a gift."
Mr. Harding proved as good as his word, for late on Saturday night a large parcel arrived, which Maria silently placed before her master on the parlour table. Mousey and John Monday were present; the latter offered a penknife to cut the knots in the cord which fastened the parcel, but it was promptly declined.
"I never cut a string in my life," Mr. Harding said impressively, "and, consequently, I have never had to purchase any. You should learn to be careful over small matters."
"Yes, Cousin Robert," Mousey answered, as the boy made no response.
The knots were untied at last. Then came another paper, with another cord, and, finally, the new suit of clothes was uncovered. After examining it carefully, Mr. Harding allowed the others to see his purchase.
"It's very like Uncle Dick's best suit," Mousey said, after she had felt the material. "You'll wear it to-morrow, won't you, Cousin Robert?"
"I suppose so," he replied; "but I shan't be nearly so comfortable as I should be in my old suit."
"Oh, but you'll soon get accustomed to this," she assured him brightly.