She told me, it was quite arranged that Emily should spend the holidays with the Pevenseys; and asked me somewhat anxiously, whether I thought there could be any hopes of its leading to a permanent engagement. As I was not authorized to communicate what Mrs. Pevensey had mentioned in confidence, I only spoke hopefully, and said, I could see no reason why it should not.
“Emily is rather afraid of undertaking Miss Pevensey,” said Mrs. Prout. “She thinks she looks too womanly, and probably knows already more than she does herself. But I, who know what is _in_ Emily, have no fears on that score; only, to be sure, she does look—and _is_—very young.”
“I don’t think looks much signify,” said I, “if there be self-possession, and a temperate manner.”
While she was speaking, little Arthur came in, and laid a bunch of radishes, wet with recent washing, and placed in a toy basket, in her lap. I had heard a boy calling radishes along the row. Mrs. Prout smiled, kissed him, and said, “Good boy; we will have them by and by for tea;” and he ran off with them, quite elated.
“He has spent the last half-penny of his allowance on them, I know,” said she, with a motherly smile; “and all for me. That is the way with the generous little fellow—he continually spends his pocket-money on me; whether on a few violets, or radishes, or perhaps a little measure of shrimps—something he trusts in my liking, because he likes it himself.”
“Such a little fellow is lucky to have any pocket-money at all,” said I.
“Oh, they all have their little allowances,” said Mrs. Prout. “Perhaps you think me wrong, in my reduced circumstances, to continue them, and it _was_ a matter of consideration; but their father and I had felt alike on that subject, and I therefore resolved only to diminish them to half the amount, and save in something else, rather than reduce them to absolute penury. I don’t like pinching on a large scale; I cannot, therefore, expect them to do so on a small one. Besides, it teaches children the value of money; gives them habits of calculation, fore-thought, and economy. How can they practise self-denial, charity, or generosity, without something, however trifling, they can call their own? But I never permit them to exceed their allowances, or borrow, or run in debt. If they spend too freely at the beginning of the week, they must suffer for it till the week after. Arthur and Alice had twopence a week each, but now they have only a penny; thus, they too, know something, practically, of ‘reduced circumstances;’ and the stipends of the elder ones have been lowered in proportion. So you see, I am not, after all, very extravagant.”