Cameron smiled at the eager girls, and, while hardly daring to consent, put off for a further day the engagement of a successor to Miss Macintosh. And the three months ran gaily along, and still Hermie sat importantly at the head of the table, and still her father read, and still Roly spread his bread upon both sides.

There was always a good table—far better than either the mother or lady-help had kept.

For the family grocer had an alluring way of suggesting delicacies, when he came for his orders that certainly no mistress of eleven or handmaid of fifteen could withstand.

'Almonds?' he would say. 'Very fine almonds this week, Miss Cameron—three pounds did you say—yes? And what about jam? I have it as low as fivepence a tin, but there is no knowing what cheap fruit these makers use.'<. . . Read More