cannot pay for,'
announced Amy.

'Well! you are easily led; but you won't lead me, for I am not going to
be the talk of the neighbours because we have no decent furniture. I
shall get a handsome satinwood bedroom suite, and that will give a tone
to the place at any rate,' said Eva.

Amy laughed, but did not try to turn the girl, who, in spite of being
only sixteen years old, was very determined in her opinions; and as
unfortunately she was an orphan and independent of every one, it was not
easy to control her, and her friend had always found it better to leave
her alone until she had cooled down a little in her enthusiasm for
anything, and then reason with her, and this she hoped to do now. So no
more was said about buying furniture, about which it would be folly to
think until the house had been taken and they knew the size of the rooms
and other details.

The next day, when Vava left her sister at the usual point in the City,
she saw Doreen Hackney coming up out of the Metropolitan Station. She
came up by the train arriving at 9.20, and as the Whartons were very
punctual, and arrived at this time, they almost invariably met her; but
this morning, although she was almost certain Doreen had seen her, the
latter walked on without turning her head.

But Vava knew Doreen too well to believe she did not wish to see her,
and ran after her. 'Doreen! Doreen! wait a minute!' she panted. At the
sound of her voice, Doreen stopped and apologised for having made her
run. 'Are you blind? Didn't you see me when you came out of the
station?' cried Vava.

Doreen gave her a very funny look. 'Yes-s,' she said hesitatingly; and
then, seeing Vava's look of astonishment, she added lamely, 'I was in a
hurry to get to school.'

'How absurd; we have plenty of time, and I want to tell you something.
We are perhaps going to live at Blackstead, for we have heard of a
lovely little house there with a garden and fruit-trees--at least, so
the agent says, though Stella says it may only be a tiny apple-tree,
with no apples on it, because they always exaggerate in advertisements,'
observed Vava.

'Oh but there are fruit-trees--apples and pears and plums!' exclaimed
Doreen, and then stopped abruptly.

'Are there such gardens in London suburbs? But there may not be in this
one. Do you know the part--it is Heather Road, Blackstead?'

'Oh yes, I know it,' said Doreen in rather a reserved tone.

Vava had been so full of her news that she had no