gold one.

Mrs. Bennett's shop was not difficult to find. Just beyond Miss Ashe's
house, round a bend in the road, they found themselves in what was called
'the street.' There were at least a dozen cottages close together;
a little further on were two or three more, and up the hill were scattered
others, at greater distances apart. The children were perfectly
delighted. Here was life and interest in plenty, and Moor Cottage was not
so lonely as they had imagined.

The shops were in two of the first group of cottages they came to, and
here was more delight--a perfect feast. Such fascinating windows they
had, so full of all sorts of interesting things, and all at such
reasonable prices too, or so it seemed to the children.

Mrs. Bennett's held groceries and drapery, and boots and writing-paper,
kettles and saucepans, little china images and 'surprise' packets.
Mrs. Vercoe's held ironmongery and drapery, and dolls and groceries,
sweets and toys of various sorts, bread, cakes and books. Mrs. Bennett
sold china too, and glass, some homely medicines, and hoops and thimbles
and skipping-ropes. Mrs. Vercoe included cheese and bacon, rope and
twine, and baskets.

Of the two they were most drawn to Mrs. Vercoe's. Her stock appealed to
them more. But as they had been told to go to Mrs. Bennett, thither they
went; and Mrs. Bennett, who kept the post office too, sold Esther some
stamps and changed her sovereign for her, and while they gazed fascinated
about her shop, she gazed at them with frank curiosity. But nothing she
could say could draw them into conversation. For some reason, they could
not have said what, they did not like her. It may have been that she
'talked fine,' as her neighbours said, and minced her words in a somewhat
affected way, or that she seemed very inquisitive, or that her rather cold
manner unconsciously offended them. The children could not have explained
why it was, but fascinating though the shop was, they hurried away from it
and crossed the road to Mrs. Vercoe's.

Mrs. Vercoe's window was certainly more enticing to them than Mrs.
Bennett's. A prolonged and critical gaze showed them not only all the
things already mentioned, but dear little rough red pitchers which would
hold just half a pint, and a larger size which would hold a pint; packets
of flower-seeds with gay pictures on the outside, and only a penny each;
the pitchers were only a penny and twopence; there were the dearest littl