Wendy came first, then John, then Michael.
For a week or two after Wendy came it was doubtful whether they would
be able to keep her, as she was another mouth to feed. Mr. Darling was
frightfully proud of her, but he was very honourable, and he sat on the
edge of Mrs. Darling’s bed, holding her hand and calculating expenses,
while she looked at him imploringly. She wanted to risk it, come what
might, but that was not his way; his way was with a pencil and a piece
of paper, and if she confused him with suggestions he had to begin at
the beginning again.
“Now don’t interrupt,” he would beg of her.
“I have one pound seventeen here, and two and six at the office; I can
cut off my coffee at the office, say ten shillings, making two nine
and six, with your eighteen and three makes three nine seven, with five
naught naught in my cheque-book makes eight nine seven–who is that
moving?–eight nine seven, dot and carry seven–don’t speak, my own–and
the pound you lent to that man who came to the door–quiet, child–dot
and carry child–there, you’ve done it!–did I say nine nine seven? yes,
I said nine nine seven; the question is, can we try it for a year on
nine nine seven?”