“O lachrymarum fons!”
I forget what use we made of the money—a good one, I feel sure.
I am sorry to reveal all this, but Barty wished it. Forty years ago such things did not seem so horrible as they would now, and the word “bounder” had not been invented.
My sister Ida, when about fourteen (1853), became a pupil at the junior school in the Ladies’ College, 48 Bedford Square. She soon made friends—nice young girls, who came to our house, and it was much the livelier. I used to hear much of them, and knew them well before I ever saw them—especially Leah Gibson, who lived in Tavistock Square, and was Ida’s special friend; at last I was quite anxious to see this paragon.
One morning, as I carried Ida’s books on her way to school, she pointed out to me three girls of her own age, or less, w
