"Little baggage!" he said, "she's nothing to me. John's the only
grandchild I ever want."

But he had an uncomfortable feeling that he had owned her.

An hour later, on his way through the hall to his bedroom; he found a
soiled crumpled piece of paper on the cane lounge, and opening it,
read--"Please give me a penny, sir!"

"The little vagabond!" he muttered. But he put the paper into his
pocket.

CHAPTER XX

THE DAY AFTER SCHOOL

A great day had dawned for Dorothea Bruce, a day long dreamed of and
alas, long dreaded!

The first day after school life!

She would joyfully have taken another two years of school-days, with
their sober joys and sweet intimate friendships; their griefs and small
quarrellings; their lessons and their play hours; their meetings and
their breakings up.

But yesterday she had "broken up" for ever. Yesterday she had mournfully
given eight locks of her beautiful hair away as "keepsakes," although it
must be owned to-day she had examined her hair carefully, looking over
her shoulder to see how it bore the loss of its tendrils.

Yesterday she had wept separately with each of her "intimate" friends,
excepting only Alma Montague, at this dreadful parting that had come
about.

Alma was not to lose Dorothea at all, instead she was to have her all to
herself at Katoomba for the holidays, and her queer little yellow face
wore a superior smile as she saw the other girls' sorrow at parting from
their "darling Thea."

Many things were promised and vowed in this touching season. The little
band of intimates were to write to each other every week; still to tell
each other _every single_ secret; to think of each other every night; to
be each other's bridesmaids as long as there were maids to go round, and
to visit each other in their married homes.

For of course they were all going to be married--every one of them.

It was Nellie Harden who had first alluded to the time "When I am
married," "When you are married," etc. She said she was rather curious
to see who would be married first, and even plain little Alma felt
cheerful in looking forward to the time when she would be engaged. They
simply took it for granted that in the great beautiful world into which
they were going there were lovers--lovers in plenty; lovers who vowed
beautiful vows, and performed gallant deeds, and wore immaculate
clothing, and still more immaculate moustaches.

Dorothea had decided to be "elder sister" t