"Florence," she said, "I am nothing if I am not frank."
"We know that, Mummy," replied her daughter, with a twinkle in her bright dark eyes; "what is up now?"
"Only this: I have been thinking things in the night."
"Oh, do satisfy my curiosity, Mrs. Aylmer," exclaimed Kitty; "where did you sleep last night? You don't know how uncomfortable Florry and I were, fearing we had taken your bed."
"Which you did, my dear. If it was a subject of fear, your fears were realised," responded the little widow.
"Oh, but this is quite dreadful: ought we to stay on here, Florry, or, at least, ought I to stay on?"
"How much, Florry, are you going to pay me per week?" now exclaimed Mrs. Aylmer. "I wish I could take you, my dear, darling child, for nothing; but the fact is, I cannot, and if I could Sukey would not allow it. Sukey says that a greater stint she will not bear, and twelve pounds ten a quarter cannot be made to go farther than we two poor women make it go, Florence. Do you think you could rise to the sum of fifteen shillings a week if I give you meat every day?"
"Of course, Mummy, of course."
"And I must and will pay a pound a week," said Kitty; "why, it is cheap—so cheap that father will be more than astonished, and the place is so lovely, and I am enjoying it greatly. Can you put me up and give me what food I require for a pound a week, Mrs. Aylmer?"
"It will be riches," said Mrs. Aylmer, with tears in her eyes. "The fact is, I can feed you both comfortably for ten shillings a piece, and the rest will be clear profit: fifteen shillings over for clear profit. Why, I won't know myself. I might be able to buy some new clothes; for I declare, my dears, I am shabby, having turned and turned and contrived and contrived until my clothes are past wearing. Your aunt has not sent me a box of her cast-offs for over a year, and I think it is extremely unkind of her."