'_I_ mustn't enjoy myself,' he said, 'but that's no reason why you
shouldn't. Here, divide this by four, and the product ought to
give you some desired result. Take care of yourselves. Adieu.'
And waving a cheery farewell with his neat umbrella, the good and
high-hatted uncle passed away, leaving Cyril and Anthea to exchange
eloquent glances over the shining golden sovereign that lay in
Cyril's hand.
'Well!' said Anthea.
'Well!' said Cyril.
'Well!' said the Phoenix.
'Good old carpet!' said Cyril, joyously.
'It WAS clever of it--so adequate and yet so simple,' said the
Phoenix, with calm approval.
'Oh, come on home and let's mend the carpet. I am a beast. I'd
forgotten the others just for a minute,' said the
conscience-stricken Anthea.
They unrolled the carpet quickly and slyly--they did not want to
attract public attention--and the moment their feet were on the
carpet Anthea wished to be at home, and instantly they were.
The kindness of their excellent uncle had made it unnecessary for
them to go to such extremes as Cyril's Etons or Anthea's Sunday
jacket for the patching of the carpet.
Anthea set to work at once to draw the edges of the broken darn
together, and Cyril hastily went out and bought a large piece of
the marble-patterned American oil-cloth which careful house-wives
use to cover dressers and kitchen tables.
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