I want," I said bravely, "an insurance stamp."

"Sixpenny or sevenpenny?" said the girl, trying to put me off my balance
at the very beginning.

"What's the difference?" I asked. "You needn't say a penny, because that
is obvious."

However, she had no wish to be funny.

"Sevenpenny for men-servants, sixpenny for women," she explained.

I wasn't going to give away our domestic arrangements to so near a
neighbour.

"Three sixpenny and four sevenpenny," I said casually, flicking the dust
off my shoes with a handkerchief. "Tut, tut, I was forgetting Thomas," I
added. "Five sevenpenny."

I took the stamps home and showered them on Celia.

"You see," I said, "it's not really difficult."

"Oh, you angel! What do I do with them?"

"Stick them on Jane," I said grandly. "Dot them about the house. Stamp
your letters with them--I can always get you plenty more."

"Didn't you get a card too?"

"N-no. No, I didn't. The fact is, it's your turn now, Celia. _You_ get
the card."

"Oh, all right. I--er--suppose you just ask for a--a card?"

"I suppose so. And--er--choose a doctor, and--er--decide on an approved
society, and--er--explain why it is you hadn't got a card before,
and--er---- Well, anyhow, it's your turn now, Celia."

"It's really still Jane's turn," said Celia, "only she's so stupid about
it."

But she turned out to be not so stupid as we thought. For yesterday
there came a ring at the bell. Feeling instinctively that it was the
inspector, Celia and I got behind the sofa ... and emerged some minutes
later to find Jane alone in the room.

"Somebody come to see about an insurance card or something," she said.
"I said you were both out, and would he come to-morrow."

Technically I suppose we _were_ both out. That is, we were not
receiving.

"Thank you, Jane," I said stiffly. I turned to Celia. "There you are," I
said. "To-morrow something _must_ be done."

"I always said I'd do it to-morrow," said Celia.

SILVER LININGS

"We want some more coal," said Celia suddenly at breakfast.

"Sorry," I said, engrossed in my paper, and I passed her the marmalade.

"More coal," she repeated.

I pushed across the toast.

Celia sighed and held up her hand.

"Please may I speak to you a moment?" she said, trying to snap her
fingers. "Good; I've caught his eye. We want----"

"I'm awfully sorry. What is it?"

"We want some more coal. Never mind this once whether Inman beat Hobbs
or not. Just help me.