“Can’t think! She wants a palm for the drawing-room, but a nice one costs half a guinea, and I couldn’t possibly scrape together more than three and six.”
Jill pondered, swinging her feet to and fro. “Five more Saturdays at fourpence each,—one and eight-pence, and I’ve got about two shillings in hand. No! I couldn’t possibly offer to join. I wish we could have managed it, for the drawing-room doesn’t look half furnished, and a big palm would have made a fine effect, but we can’t, so there’s an end of that!”
A gasp of suppressed nervousness sounded from the end of the room, and Pam’s voice said with the usual funny little squeak, “I’ve got sixpence with a hole in it. I’ll join, Betty! Do get mother a palm! She wants it so badly. We saw one in a shop window yesterday, and she said it was just the thing for our room!”
“Sorry, Pam, but it can’t be done. They are a frightful price in the shops, and even old ‘All a-growing all a-blowing’ has none under seven and six. Perhaps when her birthday comes round we can manage it, but at Christmas there are so many presents to buy that one can’t afford big things.”
“I want to get it now,” squeaked Pam obstinately, while Jill jumped down from the table and turned to the door.
“I’m going out! Can’t afford to waste holiday afternoons. Why don’t you put away that stupid work and come too?”
“Where are you going? A walk?”
“Rather not! Am I a Pampered Pet to promenade up and down? Jack and I are going to have some fun in the Square. I’m not going to tell you what it is, but you can come too if you like.”
Betty raised her head and peered out of the window. Black railings, black trees, sodden grass, paths strewn with decaying leaves, a fast-failing light. She gave a shudder of distaste and sank back in her chair.
“Thanks! I prefer the fire. I can’t understand you, Jill, going in for an exam, and wasting every spare moment you get! When I went in, I stewed every Saturday afternoon the whole term, and never dreamed of going out.”