"A typewriter."
"A typewriter!" he exclaimed, and Beth echoed the word.
Judith made no explanation. "Why, that's quite out of the usual line of expenditure," objected the Colonel. "It's an extravagance."
"A Japanese dagger might be called an extravagance," Judith returned.
"Then," answered her father, "so might those furs you bought the other day. I told you your old set was good enough."
"If I return the furs," she asked, "will you return the dagger?"
"No, by Jove!" he cried. "It's for me to decide what I will do with my own. I'm the provider."
"And you provide very well," she returned sweetly.
He looked at her with suspicion which sprang from remembrance of his methods as provider, but since she seemed to have no hidden meaning he returned to his reading. Judith, still sweetly, bade them good-night.
But the next day she started from the house dressed in all the glory of her latest possessions. "Judith," asked Beth, "you aren't going to wear those furs in the morning?"