"My check-book is at the office."
"Always so when I want anything. Now, Dempster, this is too bad."
"Well," says Dempster, desperately, "get the thing, and tell Stewart to charge it?"
Cousin E. E. turned her face away. It was awful cloudy, and I could see that she was biting her lips. She had an awful long bill at Stewart's already. Then her face lighted up.
"Can't I have them sent C. O. D., by express? You will have time to get plenty of money before then," says she, as soft as silk weed.
"I hate the system," says Dempster; "money in hand is the only way a lady should make purchases. Then she knows what she is about. Everything else leads to extravagance. I hate bills as if they were copperheads; they are things I never will forgive."
I saw that E. E. turned pale, and a red flush came around her eyes as if she were just ready to burst out a-crying.
Dempster thought it was because he had stood out about the money and gave in a trifle.
"For this once," says he, "have the things charged, but bring the bill with you. I must know what I am about in these matters."
"But I mightn't find them all in one place. Hadn't we better make it a C. O. D., just for once?" says she, pleading for her own way as if her mouth were full of humble pie.