r no fault; for, after all, it _was_ her
money, and she had a right to do as she liked with it. Only why should
she be so perverse and stupid as to have a will of her own, and not to
carry out Susan's wishes? What could she possibly be going to do with
that half-crown? What could it be that she wanted so much that she was
ready to give up all the nice games and plans they had thought of
together? As she walked soberly along by Margaretta's side Susan came
to the conclusion that it would be best to make no more inquiries about
it; she had noticed that Sophia Jane would seldom yield to persuasion
and never to force, but sometimes if you left her quite alone she would
do what you wished of her own accord. This once settled in her mind she
felt more cheerful, but the walk was dull with no one but Margaretta to
talk to, the open tarts at Buzzard's had lost their flavour, and she was
not at all sorry to get home.

To do Sophia Jane justice she was quite ready to meet Susan's advances
in a friendly spirit, and did not seem disposed to bear malice. The
little girls played together as usual, and Susan, true to her
resolution, made not the smallest reference to the half-crown, but this
silence made her think of it all the more. It was, indeed, seldom out
of her mind, and every day her curiosity grew more intense; morning,
noon, and night she wondered about that half-crown, and at last her head
was so full of it that she mixed it up with everything she did in
lessons or play-time. And at last, one day when she and Sophia Jane
were reading aloud to Aunt Hannah, a new idea, and she thought a very
good one, was suggested to her.

In the lesson there happened to be an account of a miser, who lived in a
wretched hovel, went without sufficient clothing, and almost starved
himself for the sake of hoarding money; everyone thought him poor, but
after his death it was found that he had lots of gold and silver coins
hidden away in the mattress of his bed.

"What makes people misers?" asked Susan, when she came to the end of
this history.

"Love of money, my dear," answered Aunt Hannah.

"Is every one who saves up money a miser?" continued Susan.

"No. Because they may be saving it for a wise and good purpose; but if
they hide it up as this man did, and only keep it for the pleasure of
looking at it, then they certainly would be called misers."

"Are there any now?" asked Susan, fixing her eyes on Sophia Jane.

"Oh, yes, I d