"We'll get old Mr. Chesterton to arrange about that, and let him do the best he can. We're goin' shares, and we're going to share profits in what he makes over the thing—if anything. He seems to me just like a boy we sor in Kensington Gardens when we was out; a boy with a model yacht, mad with joy over the machinery of it, and the what-not!
"That's just like my cousin Hiram. Men are kids!" added Miss Million with a profound smile.
I looked at her with surprise as I fetched her little indoor slippers. "And you're giving him the money to play with this yacht of his?"
"Yes. He talked me round to that," said my mistress. "But talk me round into marrying him into the bargain was a thing he couldn't do."
"Why not?" I ventured. "You like him. He's nice——"
"Yes. But marriage! Not for me," said Miss Million, again shaking her dark head. "I've been thinking it well out, and that's what I've come to. I'm better single. I've plenty of money, even after I've paid Hiram all he wants for the blessed machine—sounds like a sewing machine on the hire system, don't it?
"As I am, I'm my own mistress," said our little ex-maid-servant exultantly. "Go where I like, do what I like——"
"Except for being arrested and put into prison," I put in ruefully.
"Ow! That about the old ruby. Hiram'll fix that yet, see if he don't," said Miss Million, in tones of pride—family pride, I suppose.
"But, as I was saying, while I'm single I can go about as I choose, nobody saying a word to me. And nobody can twit me with being an old maid, neither, for when a lady's got money there's no such thing! So there's one reason gone why she should worry to get married. After all, what does a gel get married for, mostly?"