looked with soft eyes at the pile of unclaimed "overs." None knew
better than she of the sacrifices that the purchase of the cheapest
of these entailed; her observation had told her with what pride they
were worn, the infinite pleasure which their possession bestowed on
their owner. The cupboard's contents seemed to Mavis to be eloquent
of pinched meals, walks in bad weather to save 'bus fares, mean
economies bravely borne; to cry aloud of pitiful efforts made by
young hearts to secure a brief taste of their rightful heritage of
joy, of which they had been dispossessed.

Mavis turned away with a sigh.

Presently, in the cosiness of the bed-sitting room, Miss Nippett
became confidential.

"Are you ambitious?" she asked.

"I don't know," replied Mavis.

"I mean REELLY ambitious."

"What do you mean by that?"

"Well, like I am. I'm reelly ambitious."

"Indeed!"

"I want to be a partner in 'Poulter's.' Not for the money, you
understand, but for the honour. If I was made a partner, I'd die
'appy. See?"