"I'm going without boots, too," he said, "and I shall be in tattered things. I shall get a place as errand boy first, and----"
"When are you going?" asked Betty artfully.
"If you like," said John, "I'll see you to some street corner. I'm going at five o'clock in the morning."
"Why, so am I," said Betty. "Oh, yes; let's go together."
"You can be down at the store by half-past five," said John. "That'll give us time to get a bit of breakfast. And we'll be in Sydney early, before they find out we've gone."
[Illustration: "She went back to her bedroom, to place by Nancy's side her only remaining doll."]
Needless to say Betty did not "waste" any time that night over home-lessons. How can the beginner of a great singer be expected to care whether the pronoun "that" in "I dare do all 'that' may become a man," is relative or possessive? or whether Smyrna is the capital of Turkey or Japan? or even whether the Red Sea has to do with Africa or China.
Betty did not even open her school satchel, or peep at the cover of her books. Instead, she copied out the words of her song and learnt them sitting there at the table with Cyril.
Neither was Cyril doing home-lessons. He certainly had his books spread out before him, but the contents of his pockets were strewn upon his open books, and he was examining them and grumbling now and again at the rapacity of certain school-mates who had caused him to lose certain treasures, or accept less valuable ones, on the school system of "I'll give you this for that."
He turned over three coloured marbles in disgust. For them he had bartered away a catapult, and now his heart was heavy over the exchange.
"Artie Jones is a sneak," he grumbled. "He ought to have given me six marbles for that catapult. Eh? What do you say?"
The question was directed to Betty, whose lips were moving.
She shook her head, and sighed drearily, for she had entered into the very being of the little beggar girl who sang for a penny.
"Nothing," she said. "Nothing you'd understand. Don't chatter."
"Don't be so silly," said Cyril. "I'm as old as you, any way."
"Mother says I'm an hour older than you," said Betty.
"You can learn a lot in an hour," quoth Betty, and bent her attention to her strip of paper.