coming
because we have no servants, I don't care! Let Uncle John give us some
money if they want style when they come to Stoneleigh."

"That's so!" and Daisy nodded approvingly; then she went on: "Mother has
made some lemon jelly for the dinner, because Dorothy says she makes it
so nice, and I am going over this evening to wash the dishes and help
Dorothy a little."

"You? I wouldn't!" Archie said, looking reflectingly at her.

"But she will give me a shilling toward a new sash," was the girl's
answer, and Archie replied:

"I'll give you the shilling; don't go," and he put his hand in his
pocket for the shilling, which Daisy knew was not there, for the poverty
of the McPhersons of Stoneleigh was no secret in the neighborhood any
more than was the pride which kept them so poor.

She had often heard both discussed by her mother's customers, and when
Archie said, as he withdrew his hand empty, "Plague on it, what a bother
it is never to have any money; I wish we were not so poor. I wonder how
I can make a fortune; I've thought of forty ways," she asked saucily:

"Did you ever think of going to work?"

"To work! To work!" he repeated, slowly, as if not fully comprehending
her, "I don't think I quite know what you mean."

"I mean," she replied, "that if you have no money, and want some, why
don't you go to work and earn it like Giles, the tailor, or Jones, the
baker? It would not hurt you one bit."

"That is rich!" Archie exclaimed, sitting upright for the first time and
laughing immoderately. "The best thing I have heard. Ask Lady Jane, or
Uncle John, or even Anthony, how they would like to have a McPherson
turn baker, or tailor, or tinker."

"You know I did not mean you to be any of these," the girl answered, a
little indignantly; "but you might do something. You can go to London
and be a clerk in that big store, Marshall & Snellgrove's. That would
not be hard, nor spoil your hands."

"I am afraid it would, little Daze," the boy replied. "You will have to
try again. It would never do for a McPherson to be in trade. We were not
born to it. How would _gambling_ suit you? Piles of money are made that
way."

"Gambling!" Daisy repeated, and could Miss Betsey McPherson have seen
the scorn which flashed in the eyes of Daisy Allen, she would have
forgiven the Daisy McPherson whom she saw years after upon the terrace
at Aberystwyth flirting with Lord Hardy.

But the Daisy of the Marine Terrace was a very different p