Thus the months passed, and to the outside world, which obtained only an occasional glimpse into the Stafford household, the railroad man's pretty young wife was one of the most-to-be-envied women in New York. Still, there were some who shook their heads. They pointed to the young Mrs. Stafford's pale face and melancholy manner. In the last few weeks particularly she had lost her good spirits and was only a shadow of the girl who two years before had entered Robert Stafford's home a bride.
Meantime Virginia's sister, now Mrs. Gillie, was as happy and contented in her married life as circumstances would permit. She was not able to live on as grand a scale as her rich sister, but Jimmie's income, thanks to Mr. Stafford's generosity, had been increased to an amount quite beyond their most sanguine expectations. Beginning at a salary of $50 a week, he had been quickly raised to $100, and there was every prospect of even better to come. This enabled them to live very comfortably and even to save a little money. They had a pretty flat in One Hundred and Fortieth Street, where a baby girl had come to bless their union. Jimmie was a considerate enough husband, but indolent, and, still impressed with his own importance, he was always grumbling that his merit was underestimated by the world in general and his present employer in particular. Fanny considered it most ungrateful, and one morning at breakfast she took him to task:
"How can you speak in that way of Mr. Stafford?" she protested. "We owe him everything."
His mouth full of toast, her husband gulped down his scalding coffee. Disdainfully he replied:
"That's where you women understand nothing about business. Stafford must find me useful or he wouldn't be paying me $100 a week. I'm worth more than any other man he's got, that's the size of it. He pays me less because I'm one of the family. That's the way it always is. I'm no fool. I know what I ought to be getting. He's got to do better by me or I'll quit. I'll show him that I'm no $100-a-week piker."
"You've no right to say that, Jim," interrupted his wife. "Just think how good he is to Virginia. He's always giving her something. Only last week he bought her a diamond necklace which must have cost $5,000 if a cent."
"Pshaw!" he retorted with a sneer, "what good does Virginia's necklace do me? More fool he to throw so much money away on finery. I guess he was drunk when he did it."
Her face red with indignation, Fanny rose from the table.
"How dare you say such a thing of Robert?" she cried angrily. "You ought to be ashamed of yourself. Really, I've no patience with you! Such base ingratitude after all he has done for us! And so uncalled for! If ever there was a model husband—"
"You don't say so!" he interrupted with a sneer.