for, a-sendin' me a cheque as no one 'll change?" said Mrs. Brown. "Nice conduck of a female as calls 'erself a lydy, a-sending of a pore woman to one public hafter another, an' not one o' the lot 'll change the thing!"
"Let me see it," said Prudence, bewildered.
Mrs. Brown glared rather unsteadily at the speaker for a minute, and then fumbled in her bag. After many futile dives, she at last turned out the contents on the table. There, amidst papers, a thimble, sixpence in coppers, some pawn tickets, a half-crown, a reel of cotton, a stump of blue pencil, and various other odds and ends, was the letter of Prudence, with her cheque, now very crumpled and dirty, protruding.
"Calls erself a lydy," pursued good Mrs. Brown, "an' sends me that!" Here she banged the cheque on the table.
Prudence, from force of habit, had crossed the cheque and marked it "not negotiable," as the family solicitor, when first she had the handling of money, had instructed her always to do.
"I am sorry," she said, "the cheque is crossed, and that is why they would not change it. It should be passed through a
