The clerk put the shoes into a cardboard box, folded the coat, and placed them both in a paper bag.
Richard carried the paper bag in one hand and the schoolbag containing the Oil Lamp on his back.
By the time he left the department store, a light rain had begun to fall.
The autumn rain in Brighton was fine and dense. A curtain of water streamed from the eaves, soaking the entire street.
He tucked the paper bag under his coat for protection and hurried onward with his head down.
By the time he reached his front door, the rain had soaked his hair, and a patch on the back of his shirt was drenched.
He pushed the door open to the sound of a sizzling frying pan from the kitchen.
Evelyn was standing at the stove in an apron, frying potato cakes with a deft flick of her spatula.
"You’re back? How did you get so soaked?" She turned her head, spatula still hovering in mid-air.
"It started raining."
"Didn’t you bring an umbrella?"
"It wasn’t raining when I left."
Evelyn pursed her lips and scooped the finished potato cakes onto a plate.
Richard placed his schoolbag on the low stool by the door.
The Oil Lamp was too heavy to be set down just anywhere, so he bent down to make sure the schoolbag was propped up securely before straightening.
"What’s that in your hand?" His sister’s gaze fell upon the large paper bag he was holding.
"Something good."
"What kind of good thing?"
"It’s for you."
Evelyn tossed the spatula into the pan and strode over, not even bothering to untie her apron.
Richard placed the paper package on the dining table and untied the string.
He opened the paper bag, revealing a slate-blue tweed.
Evelyn’s hand stopped in mid-air, not touching it just yet.
"This is..."
"A coat I bought for you." Richard also brought out the cardboard box. "And the shoes I promised."
He opened the box lid. Deep chestnut-colored ankle boots were nestled neatly inside tissue paper.
Evelyn stood by the table, her hands clutching the corners of her apron.
The girl glanced at the coat and shoes, then turned to her brother. "From your prize money?"
"Just six shillings." He blinked, deliberately knocking two shillings off the price.
"Six shillings is still money!" Evelyn’s voice rose. The oil in the pan was still sizzling.
She went around to the stove to turn off the flame, then turned back with her hands on her hips.
"Why are you buying me clothes? Your own shirt collar is frayed, and you haven’t replaced it."
"It doesn’t matter to me," Richard said casually.
Evelyn opened her mouth, then swallowed the words that were about to come out.
She looked back at the items on the table.
She could tell the quality of the tailoring at a glance—the shoulder line was clean, the cuff width was perfect, and the fabric felt thick and sturdy.
And the shoes were even better. With their thick soles and wool lining, it was obvious they were sturdy enough to last several winters.
’That brother of mine definitely lowballed the price. There’s no way this coat and these shoes together cost only six shillings.’
"How did you know my size?" she asked, not calling him out on his lie.
"When you wear my socks, they’re exactly one size too big. I just estimated from that."
Evelyn took the ankle boots out of the box, turned them over in her hands, and slipped her right foot into one.
Her toes weren’t pinched, the arch fit perfectly, and the boot opening sat snugly above her ankle, neither too loose nor too tight.
She took a couple of steps, the soles making a crisp TAP-TAP sound on the kitchen tiles.
"...A perfect fit."
"That’s good."
Evelyn put on the other boot and walked back and forth a few steps in the kitchen.
She picked the coat up from the table, shook it out, slipped it on, and walked over to the dressing Mirror in the entryway.
In the Mirror, the slate-blue tweed made her brown hair seem to glow.
The tailored waist gave her a sharp, clean silhouette, and the raised collar perfectly shielded the spot on the back of her neck most vulnerable to the cold.
Evelyn spun to the left before the Mirror, then spun to the right.
"Brother, does it look good?" she called toward the kitchen.
"Look in the Mirror yourself."
"I am looking! I’m asking if *you* think it looks good."
"Of course it looks good. How could something I bought not look good?"
"...Could you try not to be so perfunctory?"
Richard came out of the kitchen with a teacup and leaned against the doorframe, watching his sister preen in front of the Mirror.
Evelyn, in her new coat and ankle boots, looked no different from the girls in the fashion magazines.
The slate-blue fabric set off her fair skin, brown hair, and gray eyes. She was stunning.
Looking at his sister’s smiling face, the last vestiges of gloom in Richard’s heart dissipated completely.
"You can fold the collar down," he said, taking a sip of tea. "It looks better that way when it’s not too cold."
Evelyn folded the collar down, then popped it back up.
Down, then up. Down, then up.
"Stop flipping it, or you’ll wear out the collar."
Evelyn finally stopped and took one last look in the Mirror.
She slowly undid the four horn buttons, took off the coat, and folded it neatly.
"Brother."
"Hm?"
"Thank you."
"But next time, could you please tell me before you spend money?"
Richard chuckled and put his teacup back in the kitchen.
Evelyn walked upstairs, clutching the folded coat. At the landing, she turned back.
"Brother."
"What is it now?"
"You really do need to replace your shirt. I’ll get one ready for you tomorrow."
"You don’t have to."
"You have to. You’re a person of some standing now.
Second place in the Cicero Cup, and you’re going to be a private tutor. You can’t show up looking ragged."
Richard’s first instinct was to say, ’What I wear is none of your business.’
But he thought better of it and swallowed the hurtful words.
Besides, his sister’s logic was sound.
’He would soon be taking on tutoring jobs from the Classical Society’s recommendation list. Being respectably dressed was a basic requirement when dealing with those wealthy families.’
"...Fine. You can help me pick one out."
Evelyn nodded in satisfaction and went upstairs, still holding the coat.
Footsteps thumped on the floorboards above for a moment, followed by the sound of a closet door opening and closing.
’She’s probably finding a good spot to hang the new coat.’
Richard heated up the remaining potato cakes in the kitchen and ate them with his tea.
A little while later, the footsteps sounded again. The girl came downstairs wearing her new boots.
A TAP TAP TAP resounded from the staircase all the way to the kitchen doorway.
"Why are you wearing them again?"
"Seeing if they’re suitable for doing chores in."
"Washing dishes in new boots?"
"Boots are meant to be worn. They won’t break themselves in sitting in a box."
With that, she had already tied her apron back on and walked over to the sink to start scrubbing the pan.
The soles of her new ankle boots tapped out a steady rhythm on the wet kitchen tiles.
Watching his sister washing the pan in an apron and her new boots, Richard felt that the eight shillings had been money well spent.
A short while later, their father returned from work, smelling of coal dust.
Their Mother had also woken up. Her complexion was better than it had been that morning, but her voice was still hoarse.
As Evelyn set the table for dinner in her new ankle boots, their Mother was the first to notice.
"Evelyn, are those new boots you’re wearing?"
"Mhm."
"Where did the money come from?"
Evelyn pointed her spoon at Richard, who was across the table with his head down, drinking his soup.
Their Mother glanced at her son but said nothing.
Their father, however, put down his newspaper.
"There’s a coat, too," Evelyn added from the side.
"How much was it all together?"
"Six shillings."
Their father did a quick calculation in his head and sensed something was off. His lips moved, but in the end, he simply took a sip from his teacup in tacit acceptance.
The dinner table fell quiet for a moment.
Their Mother pushed a small dish of pickled cucumbers toward Richard. "What about you? Do you need a new shirt?"
"Evelyn is going to help me pick one out tomorrow."
Evelyn, her mouth full of bread, mumbled in agreement.
"It seems you two siblings have it all figured out." Their Mother coughed lightly, but her eyes were smiling.

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