"Yes, yes!" rejoined Pauline hurriedly. The fact being that after the initial flourish and purchase of a few pieces of jewellery and other trinkets Crabbe had tightened his purse-strings, as it were, not from miserliness, but because it was necessary to use caution until they reached London, when larger sums would be paid over on due recognition of his identity. "Free enough for the present. As for me, I have saved nothing, nothing! How could I, with this need for ready money hanging over me? So I do not like to ask too much, just now, and, like a man, he provides me with diamond earrings while I lack proper shoes and an umbrella."
"Take mine!" said Miss Cordova earnestly. "It's real silk and it won't matter if there's an 'S' on the handle. It was his—Stanbury's."
"My dear girl," cried Pauline, "I couldn't! You'll need it yourself.
See—it's silver mounted and valuable!"
"I know it, and that's why I want you should have it. We've been good friends, Pauline, even if there is a difference in our education, and I'd like to give you some little thing. Do please take the umbrella."
All Miss Clairville's latent womanliness sprang to the surface as she jumped off the bed and enfolded her friend in a warm embrace.
"God knows, you will never be forgotten by me, Sara! We've struggled together too long for that. You have a sweet temper and a kind heart, and le bon Dieu takes note of that. I wish now you could marry Mr. Poussette, for I see that you'll miss me when I'm gone, and that's not a bad idea about your children. I hope I'll never have any; I'd be afraid, I'd be afraid. Well, I'll accept the umbrella then, in memoriam if you like. And you take the white dress, and these long yellow gloves, and this sash for Maisie, and here's a bijou imitation watch and chain for Jack—eh? What's the matter?"
Miss Cordova leant heavily on her friend.
"They are calling us," she said.
"Who are?"
"I don't know. Listen! Some one's wanted. It's me. It's me.
Perhaps Schenk's come! Pauline, what shall I do?"