d had merry little lunches
together in the corridors, while she ate sandwiches in the dreary
cloak-room in the basement, and sadly reflected that she was not the
genius she had imagined. Her talent lay in caricature and bright
original design, and pray how was she to have a chance of exhibiting
these gifts in a copy of the Venus de Milo? The probabilities of
earning money seemed to retreat into the dim distance, and poor Philippa
realised as much, and sighed more and more heavily over the weekly
bills.

It was a relief to all to listen to Barney's merry voice, and to sun
themselves in his radiant presence. The account of his luncheon in town
was a daily amusement; for he had strongly objected to coming home in
the middle of the day, and had finally been allowed the lordly sum of
eight-pence by the head of the exchequer.

"It is twice as much as your return fare in the Tube, so I calculate
that would be about the cost of your lunch here. If you go to the right
places, Steve says, you can get quite a comfortable meal for
eight-pence--a plate of warm, nourishing soup, or a cup of chocolate and
sandwiches."

So spoke Philippa in her wisdom, but Barney was too much of a schoolboy
to condescend to warm and nourishing diet while sweetmeats were within
his reach. On a chill and rainy day he would make a selection of three
custard-tarts and a bottle of lemonade, or a cold mince-pie, a slice of
plum-cake, and a glass of milk; after which exploit he would return home
in the best of health and spirits, to eat at one meal as much as his
four sisters put together.

As to his business experiences, Barney was curiously reticent, but he
pronounced the office "not bad sport," talked of the heads of
departments by their Christian names, alluded to the manager as "Old
Waxworks," and was so uncomplaining about the long confinement that
Philippa cherished the fondest hopes of his success. The boy had
settled down far better than she had expected, and if he were a trifle
uproarious at home, it was not to be wondered at. Before his arrival
Hope had played favourite classics for the amusement of her sisters
during the evening, but Master Barney had little patience with such a
tame performance. He preferred to hear popular street ditties, coached
Hope in the airs in a loud, cracked treble, and insisted on a chorus, as
often as not throwing in a step-dance by way of improvement. From time
to time one of his sisters would offer a mil