"How much have you made for yourself to-day all round!"
"Sevenpence three fardin's," confessed Prue, with an appealing look.
"You know I don't allow you to take tips from my customers," went on Miss Tranter. "You must put those three farthings in my poor-box."
"Yes'm!" sighed Prue meekly.
"And then you may keep the sevenpence."
"Oh thank y' 'm! Thank y', Mis' Tranter!" And Prue hugged herself ecstatically. "You'se 'orful good to me, you is, Mis' Tranter!"
Miss Tranter stood a moment, an upright inflexible figure, surveying her.
"Do you say your prayers every night and morning as I told you to do?"
Prue became abnormally solemn.
"Yes, I allus do, Mis' Tranter, wish I may die right 'ere if I don't!"