"And, my dear child," added Mrs Walton, "you will not forget you have a second purse at Emmerton rectory if it should be needed."
"I should be very ungrateful if I were to forget it," replied Mrs Herbert, as she pressed the worn but delicate hand which was held out to her; "though, now that my brother is at the Hall, I think my first appeal must be to him."
"I suspect I shall have a regular jubilee celebrated in the parish," said the rector. "Do you remember the first we ever had, some twenty years ago, when your brother came of age? We have not had such another since."
"There was one other great day, surely," said Mrs Walton. "My memory sometimes seems to get sadly confused even about things which passed years ago, and which, they say, are always remembered the best; but, surely, there was one other fete—what was it for?"
Amy looked up from her work, and whispered in Mrs Walton's ear—"Mamma and aunt Edith's wedding-day."
Mrs Herbert caught the words, and the tears started to her eyes. She turned away, and, taking up a newspaper which lay upon the table, began looking over the contents.
"Ah! yes, my love, you are right," said Mrs Walton, in a low tone. And Mr Walton, anxious to change the subject, made some remarks upon a great fire which had taken place in a neighbouring village, and the account of which was in that day's paper.
"Amy," said Mrs Herbert, "there is a very interesting story of the conduct of a little girl during the fire; you may read it if you like."
Amy took the paper and read what her mother pointed out; and as she came to the end her eye caught the first words of another paragraph, and she exclaimed, "Dear mamma, here is something about India."
Mr Walton looked very grave. "It is nothing good I am afraid," he said; "I was in hopes you would have heard it before you came here: they say the war has broken out again."