was so outrageously flippant and witty that his father
glanced at him suspiciously from time to time.

"Why haven't you let Vespasian light up?" he inquired.

"I'm afraid to call Vespasian. Renata has been raiding and I shall get
a lecture. She's left her booty, as I told her she would. Christopher,
when you have quite finished pretending it's your duty to draw the
curtains, you might run up with this money to her. Put it in that
box."

Christopher came forward rather slowly. He swept the money into the
box indicated.

"What a lot," he commented.

"Seven pounds, four shillings, and sixpence, and I am now penniless. I
shan't even get credit with Heaven. She'll appropriate that."

Christopher ran off with it and meeting Nevil on the stairs gave it
into his hand. Renata had gone to dress, and Nevil sauntered in to his
wife with her "spoils" at once.

"Seven pounds, four and sixpence," she said gleefully. "For the creche
fund. It was nice of Aymer. I had not meant to worry him to-day, but
he wanted distraction."

"I thought Vespasian kept his money. Six pounds four and sixpence,
Renata," Nevil remarked, counting the money carelessly. She came over
to him, brush in hand.

"You can't even do addition. Nothing but dates! I counted it most
carefully, so did Aymer."

"Then he's defrauded you of a pound since."

"Nonsense."

They counted it together, but no amount of reckoning would make seven
sovereigns out of six. The silver was correct.

"It must have fallen down," said Renata at last and put it away
carefully in her desk.

They were late for dinner, and Mr. Aston pretended to upbraid them and
told Renata to take her soup and leave her correspondence alone, for
there was a big envelope lying by her plate. It was her
father-in-law's contribution to the creche scheme, Aymer having
forestalled her request, and joined forces with his father in a really
adequate sum.

Renata got pink with pleasure as she looked at the cheque. She was,
however, far too shy to express her real gratitude in words before
them all. She smiled at the donor and remarked she would give him a
big photograph in a beautiful frame of the first baby admitted to the
creche, to hang in his room as a slight token of her appreciation of
his gift.

"It shall take the place of Charlotte," he assured her gravely.

Aymer looked aggrieved.

"May I ask the precise sum, Renata?" he inquired pointedly, "that
earns so gracious a reward."

"It's