“Oh, William,” she said, “I was really bringing this to you when they showed me into the wrong room and I couldn’t resist having a game with them. I found it this morning after you’d gone—in an old drawer I was tidying, and I thought you might like it.”
William opened it. It was a case of butterflies—butterflies of every kind, all neatly labelled.
“I think it used to belong to my brother,” said Miss Fairlow carelessly. “Would you like it?”
“Oh, crumbs!” gasped William. “Thanks.”
“And I’ve had the loveliest time this afternoon that I’ve had for ages,” said Miss Fairlow dreamily. “Thank you so much.”
William hastened to the old barn in which the Exhibition was to be held. Ginger, Douglas and Henry and the audience were already there.
“Well, you’re early, aren’t you?” said Douglas sarcastically.
“D’you think,” said William sternly, “that anyone wot has had all the hard work I’ve had getting together this c’lection could be here earlier?”
The half-dozen little boys who formed the audience grasped their halfpennies firmly and looked at William suspiciously.
“They won’t give up their halfpennies,” said Henry in deep disgust.