"Oh, Fanny!"
"I saw it. One drink would have meant death mingled with convulsions."
"You imagined it."
"Not much," retorted her sister. "I saw it, I tell you. So did Jimmie—I mean James. You know I'm trying to break myself of this habit of calling him Jimmie. It's so common."
"Where is Jimmie?" smiled Virginia, still busy at her dressing table.
"Smoking a cigar and admiring the baby."
Virginia remained silent for a moment. Then, thoughtfully, she said:
"Do you know what I'm going to do for her?"
"No—what?" demanded Fanny eagerly.
"I'm going to do all I can for her. She'll never have to fight and struggle as you and mother did. I'm going to buy her clothes for her, see after her education, get a governess when the time comes, send her through Vassar or Wellesley if she wants to go, see that she learns how to ride and drive. In fact, I'm going to do everything for her that money and love can."