"What!" screamed the housewife, "when the bushel of rye costs but a
groat! What! me spend a month's meal and meat and fire on such vanity as
that: the lightning from Heaven would fall on me, and my children would
all be beggars."

"Mother!" sighed little Catherine, imploringly.

"Oh! it is in vain, Kate," said Gerard, with a sigh. "I shall have to
give it up, or ask the dame Van Eyck. She would give it me, but I think
shame to be for ever taking from her."

"It is not her affair," said Catherine, very sharply; "what has she to
do coming between me and my sun?" and she left the room with a red
face. Little Catherine smiled. Presently the housewife returned with a
gracious, affectionate air, and two little gold pieces in her hand.

"There, sweetheart," said she, "you won't have to trouble dame or
demoiselle for two paltry crowns."

But on this Gerard fell a thinking how he could spare her purse.

"One will do, mother. I will ask the good monks to let me send my copy
of their 'Terence:' it is on snowy vellum, and I can write no better:
so then I shall only need six sheets of vellum for my borders and
miniatures, and gold for my ground, and prime colours--one crown will
do.'

"Never tyne the ship for want of a bit of tar, Gerard," said his
changeable mother. But she added, "Well, there, I will put the crown in
my pocket. That won't be like putting it back in the box. Going to the