"Except, of course, where there is a great principle, not great possessions, at stake?"
"Yes," she assented, but somewhat doubtfully, "yes, of course."
"But it shows a terrible dearth of interest when we get down to principles."
"Yes," she said again, laughing. Meanwhile Miss Normaine's niece was pursuing her own ends with that directness which, though lacking the evasive subtlety of maturer years, is at once effective and commendable.
"It was nothing but a box of chocolate peppermints," she insisted. "I'd never be so reckless as to wager anything more without thinking it over. I have an allowance, and I'm obliged to be careful what I spend."
He looked her over with approval.
"You spend it well," he asserted.
"I have to," she returned, "or else boys like you would never look at me twice."
"I don't know about that." He spoke as one who, though convinced, is not a bigot.
"It's fortunate that I do," she replied decidedly. "I'm mortifyingly dependent on my clothes. There's my Aunt Katharine now,—she has an air in anything."