Cordelia greatly surprised that absent-minded gentleman one morning by timidly putting a little cut-glass vase on his desk, into which she slipped an American Beauty rose. Although she had talked to him a great deal, and about many things, it was nearly a week before she approached the matter that lay nearest her heart.
"Women sometimes—er—put their money into stocks, don't they?" Cordelia asked tentatively, as they bowled briskly down Fifth Avenue one bright morning.
"Yes, and nearly always lose it, too," was Mr. Spaulding's discouraging and somewhat curt reply.
"But if they are certain about the right thing?"
"They never are. No one is."
"But if they have a friend in Wall Street, a friend who knows—" ventured Cordelia.
"Then the friend never knows. My advice is for women to keep out of Wall Street."
"But aren't there any stocks that are safe? I mean, aren't there any good ones you feel certain about, for instance?"
"Of course; but those are the kind you never make your money out of—at least not at the rate women want to make it. They're slow and steady."
"But you've been in Wall Street so long! Surely there's something you feel to be safe and yet going to go up, too?"