“What was it aunt Eunice gave you?” asked Kathie, as they were walking down the shady road.
“I haven’t looked,” said Elizabeth, opening her hand in which she held the coin. “Why, it’s gold,” she exclaimed. “It felt so little that I didn’t think it was more than a dime. How much is it, mother? I don’t know much about gold pieces.”
Her mother looked at it. “Why, it is five dollars, my dear.”
“Really? Why, I don’t believe I expressed my gratification half pleasedly enough. Do you think I ought to go back and do it over again?”
“No, my dear; I think you have said quite as much as can be required of you,” her mother replied, to Elizabeth’s relief.
The child looked wistfully down at the money in her hand. “I never had so much,” she said. “Do you think I should spend it on school books, mother?”
“Why, my dear child, I think that as you have done so well and have made it so easy for us all that the least we can do is to buy your books for you. You shall do just as aunt Eunice said; spend it as you please.”
“Oh mother, would it buy the hat?”
“I am sure it would.”
“Then may I? May I?”