“Certainly not.  I only gave him threepence.”

“But I showed the money to your ladyship,” said Smilash, twisting his hat agitatedly.  “I gev it you.  Where would the like of me get five shillings except by the bounty of the rich and noble?  If the young lady thinks I hadn’t ort to have kep’ the tother ’arfcrown, I would not object to its bein’ stopped from my wages if I were given a job of work here.  But—­”

“But it’s nonsense,” said Agatha.  “I never gave you three half-crowns.”

“Perhaps you mout ‘a’ made a mistake.  Pence is summat similar to ’arf-crowns, and the day were very dark.”

“I couldn’t have,” said Agatha.  “Jane had my purse all the earlier part of the week, Miss Wilson, and she can tell you that there was only threepence in it.  You know that I get my money on the first of every month.  It never lasts longer than a week.  The idea of my having seven and sixpence on the sixteenth is ridiculous.”

“But I put it to you, Miss, ain’t it twice as ridiculous for me, a poor laborer, to give up money wot I never got?”

Vague alarm crept upon Agatha as the testimony of her senses was contradicted.  “All I know is,” she protested, “that I did not give it to you; so my pennies must have turned into half-crowns in your pocket.”

“Mebbe so,” said Smilash gravely.  “I’ve heard, and I know it for a fact, that money grows in the pockets of the rich.  Why not in the pockets of the poor as well?  Why should you be su’prised at wot ’appens every day?”

“Had you any money of your own about you at the time?”

“Where could the like of me get money?—­asking pardon for making so bold as to catechise your ladyship.”

“I don’t know where you could get it,” said Miss Wilson testily; “I ask you, had you any?”

“Well, lady, I disremember.  I will not impose upon you.  I disremember.”

“Then you’ve made a mistake,” said Miss Wilson, handing him back his money.  “Here.  If it is not yours, it is not ours; so you had better keep it.”

“Keep it!  Oh, lady, but this is the heighth of nobility!  And what shall I do to earn your bounty, lady?”

“It is not my bounty:  I give it to you because it does not belong to me, and, I suppose, must belong to you.  You seem to be a very simple man.”

“I thank your ladyship; I hope I am.  Respecting the day’s work, now, lady; was you thinking of employing a poor man at all?”

“No, thank you; I have no occasion for your services.  I have also to give you the shilling I promised you for getting the cabs.  Here it is.”

“Another shillin’!” cried Smilash, stupefied.

“Yes,” said Miss Wilson, beginning to feel very angry.  “Let me hear no more about it, please.  Don’t you understand that you have earned it?”