er breathlessly, for
the same thought was in all their minds.

'It's the opportunity!' said Jean, solemnly.

'They're really starving!' cried Barbara, clapping her hands joyfully. 'We
must go and feed them----'

'And give them clothes,' added Angela, enthusiastically; 'and
pocket-money!'

Babs pulled a purse out of her pocket. 'Here's three and sevenpence
halfpenny, and I've got ten shillings more in my left-hand corner drawer,'
she said earnestly. 'Will that be enough, do you think?'

Jean had been thinking deeply. 'It's no use giving anything to that scrap
of a child,' she decided. 'We must go and see his mother first, and find
out if his story is true. My father says that indis-indiscrim-in-_ate_
charity does an awful lot of harm. We don't want to do indiscrimin-_ate_
charity, do we? Come along, you two, and look sharp!'

They clambered over the gate and dropped into the lane, one by one.
Barbara was the last, and she almost forgot the solemn reason for
their expedition in the thrilling thought that they were going to find
out at last where the lane went to. She was quite unprepared for the
disappointment she felt when they turned the corner by the old elm
tree and the forbidden world beyond burst upon their view. After all, the
lane was just the same round the corner, except that it was not quite
so interesting, for it grew less grassy as it went on, and finally
widened out into a kind of cart-track that was anything but romantic.
An enchanted princess might flee with a prince down a grass-grown lane
that wound away to nowhere in particular but she would never dream of
stumbling over sharp flint stones and splashing through puddles in a
common cart-track. The other two did not seem to notice that there was
anything wrong with the lane, though; they just kept on straight ahead,
with Bobby Hearne shuffling along between them, and Barbara had to run a
little to catch them up.

'Is it far?' she asked.

'Oop agin the top end o' the village,' explained Bobby, who was fast
losing his shyness under the influence of these wonderful young ladies,
who carried such funny sticks in their hands, and talked in such a
magnificent way about pocket-money.

'That's close to the church, on the way up from the station,' said Jean.
'Is yours the cottage with the red roof, Bobby, or the one with roses all
over it?'

Bobby looked vacant again; he did not recognise his home from Jean's
picturesque description. 'There be foive p