At first some of the boys had been quite shy and diffident in Whyn’s presence.  But this soon wore away, and they all became the firmest of friends.  There was nothing the scouts would not do for the invalid girl, and when they were in doubt about anything it was always to her they turned to help them out of their difficulty.  She knew more about the scout work than they did, and many were the helpful suggestions she made.

“You must have scout suits,” she told them one day, “and each of you must earn the money to buy his own.  All the scouts do it, and it is really expected of them.  Douglas sold newspapers to buy his, and I remember the day he brought his suit home.  He looked so fine when he wore it, and we were proud of him.”

The scouts liked this idea, and they spent over an hour discussing it, and how they were to earn the money.  Whyn was able to tell the price of the entire suit, and where it could be bought in the city.

Rod listened to this conversation, but said little.  He walked home in a very thoughtful mood, and the Royals noticed that he was more silent than usual as he ate his supper.  Generally he was bubbling over with news about the scouts.  But now he had nothing to say of what had taken place that afternoon.  Rod was worried over the suit question, as he had not the slightest idea how he was going to earn the money to buy his.  He could not think of any way out of his difficulty.  The other scouts had plans which would not do for him, as they were farmers’ sons, and could earn money right at home.  He thought of this the last thing before he went to sleep that night, and the moment he awoke it came into his mind.

“I want you to take something for me over for Miss Arabella this morning,” Mrs. Royal told him after breakfast.  “The poor soul has not been well for some time, and I heard last night that she is worse.  I have made up a few dainties for her as her appetite is almost gone, so I understand.”

Rod did not fancy this errand, for he remembered only too well the last time he had seen Miss Arabella lying so still upon the sofa after her affair of the heart.  It was, therefore, with lagging steps that he made his way across the field, carrying in his hand the little basket filled with the good things Mrs. Royal had sent for the invalid.

Miss Arabella was in bed looking paler than ever, so Rod thought her nose seemed longer than he had ever seen it.  She was propped up with several pillows, and her hair was done up in papers.  She looked to the boy like pictures he had seen of natives with funny head-dresses out in the islands of the Pacific Ocean.

“So Mrs. Royal sent those things, did she!” she whined.  “She might have come herself.  She has been here only three times this week, while you haven’t been near me for a long time.  I might die here, and no one would care.  This is what people call a Christian land, is it?”