e got it at last, but not till
all Betsey's pocket had been turned out; and finding nothing but
shillings and threepenny-bits, she went all through her day's expenses
aloud, calling all her girls to witness to help her to account for the
sixpence that ought to have been there.

Mrs. Brown had paid her four and sixpence--one florin and a
half-crown--and she had three threepenny-pieces in her pocket, and
twopence. Then Sally had been out and got a shilling's-worth of soap,
and six-penn'orth of blue, and brought home one shilling; and there was
the sausages--no one could recollect what they had cost, though they
talked so much about their taste; and five-pence-worth of red-herrings,
and the butter; yes, and threepence to the beggar who said he had been in
Sebastopol. Harold's head was ready to turn round before it was all
done; but he got away at last, with a scolding for not going up to see
Mother.

Home he trotted as hard as the pony would go, holding his head down to
try to bury nose and mouth in his collar, and the thick rain plastering
his hair, and streaming down the back of his neck. What an ill-used
wretch was he, said he to himself, to have to rattle all over the country
in such weather!

Here was home at last. How comfortable looked the bright light, as the
cottage door was thrown open at the sound of the horse's feet!

'Well, Harold!' cried Ellen eagerly, 'is anything the matter?'

'No,' he said, beginning to get sulky because he felt he was wrong; 'only
Peggy lost a shoe--'

'Lame?'

'No, I took her to the smith.'

'Give me Alfred's ointment, please, before you put her up. He is in such
a way about it, and we can't put him to bed--'

'Haven't got it.'

'Not got it! O Harold!'

'I should like to know how to be minding such things when pony loses a
shoe, and such weather! I declare I'm as wet--!' said Harold angrily, as
he saw his sister clasp her hands in distress, and the tears come in her
eyes.

'Is Harold come safe?' called Mrs. King from above.

'Is the ointment come?' cried Alfred, in a piteous pain-worn voice.

Harold stamped his foot, and bolted to the stable to put the pony away.

'It's not come,' said Ellen, coming up-stairs, very sadly.

'He has forgot it.'

'Forgot it!' cried Alfred, raising himself passionately. 'He always does
forget everything! He don't care for me one farthing! I believe he
wants me dead!'

'This is very bad of him! I didn't think he'd have done