It is probable that Mr. Mackenzie gave his wife just a hint of what was a-foot, for she asked no more questions about the puppies, and made no further complaints of the extra food and milk which Yummy required at this time.
And in due course, after a good deal of correspondence through the columns of the Queen and the Exchange and Mart, one by one the three little pugs went away from the house at Putney to homes of their own, and Nannie in return became the proud possessor of no fewer than eight golden sovereigns.
To these Mr. Mackenzie added the two which he had promised to make up the sum of ten pounds, and then Nannie had the supreme joy of going to Rosalind--who was hard at work in her studio painting a sunset in tints so startling that her artist soul was sick within her--and flinging her offering in a shower into her lap.
"Why, what is this, Nannie?" Rosalind cried, half frightened.
"It's your lessons, Rosie," Nannie cried, "or at least as much of them as you can get for ten pounds; and I'm so glad, dear, dear Rosie, to be able to help you, you don't know," and happy Nannie flung her arms round her sister, almost crying for joy.
"But where did you get it? Oh, the pugs! I forgot them," Rosalind cried. "Oh! but Nannie, my dear, darling, unselfish sister, I can't take your money in this way----"
"You must," Nannie answered promptly.
"But your watch--you've longed so for a watch, you know," said the elder girl.
"Well, I have, but I can long a bit more," returned Nannie philosophically. "I shall like it all the better when I do get it."
"I can't take it, darling," Rosalind urged.