full of children, and
there's never any peace from morning till night."

Mona grew crimson. She wanted to say something very much, and she lacked
the courage. Instead she asked how old were the children, as if she did
not know!

"There's Betty," said Dot, "she's to come here when I leave, and she
won't enjoy it a bit--she's such a romp--and there's Cyril, they're both
about twelve. And there's Nancy, she's six, and the baby."

"I wish," said Mona, "I _wish_ they belonged to me."

"How can I practise with them everywhere about. How can I read, how can
I paint even, write my book, do anything, with them everywhere?" asked
Dot dismally. "They just fill the house."

Again Mona stumbled to what she wanted to say, and stopped. Dot would
say she was "lecturing." It would never do.

"You're rich," said pretty Dot pouting; "you can have everything you
want, do anything, go anywhere."

A few puckers got into Mona's high forehead.

"Once," she said, "I had four sisters, all younger than myself, and they
all died. I told you, didn't I?"

"But it's long ago," said Dot. "Three years ago since the baby died. You
must have forgotten."

"I'd promised my mother, when she was dying, to be a mother to them.
Father and aunt _made_ me go to school, and all the time I was counting
on when I should leave, and be an elder sister."

Dot opened her eyes very wide.

"Why did you want to be an elder sister?" she asked.

Mona still looked red and ashamed.

"You should read _The Flower of the Family_," she said, and "_The Eldest
of Seven, Holding in Trust_. You'd know then."

Dorothea had read the last, and she began to see and understand.

"You've got your mother and sisters," said Mona shyly.

And then for the first time it occurred to Dorothea that she herself was
an elder sister, that she was the eldest of five, and that infinite
possibilities lay before her.

"There's only my father and my aunt and brother when _I_ go home," said
Mona. "And I've only twenty-nine days, too, and then, oh! Thea darling,
I have to lose you."

"We'll write twice a week always," whispered Dot, twining her arms round
her friend's waist.

"And always be each other's bosom friend," said Mona.

Then the prayer-bell rang, and the four intimate friends scanned Thea
closely, seeing that she had been crying, and feeling angry with "that"
Mona Parbury for letting her.

CHAPTER X

RICHES OR RAGS

Captain Carew and John Brown--big John Br