considerably more."

" Well, I shan't object to that; there are lots of uses for money;
but it doesn't matter."

Jane's sincerity was evident. She dismissed the matter, and her
basket being full of beans, seized a fork to dig potatoes.

"Here, let me do that," cried Will, interposing.

"You? Well then, as a very great favour."

"Of course I mean that. It's grand to turn up potatoes. What sort
are these?"

"Pink-eyed flukes," replied Jane, watching him with keen interest.
"We haven't touched them yet."

"Mealy, eh?"

"Balls of flour!"

Their voices joined in a cry of exultation, as the fork threw out
even a finer root than they had expected. When enough had been dug,
they strolled about, looking at other vegetables. Jane pointed to
some Savoy seedlings, which she was going to plant out to-day. Then
there sounded a joyous bark, and Pompey came bounding toward them.

"That means the milk-boy is here," said Jane. "Pompey always goes to
meet him in the morning. Come and drink a glass--warm."