“That’s my five dollars from Grandpa,” she explained.
Jacqueline forgot to be languid. Distinctly she sat up and took notice.
“Five dollars!” she repeated enviously. “What you going to do with it?”
“I d’ know,” admitted Eleanor. “Buy me some silver bangles, I guess.”
“You don’t want bangles,” Jacqueline declared with finality. “They slip down over your hand and get in your way all the time. I should think——” She hesitated, as one about to make a desperate plunge. “I should think you’d much rather buy a chain.”
“Well, maybe I will,” Eleanor said vaguely.
“A chain of gold beads would be nice, don’t you think?” Jacqueline spoke in honeyed accents. “Have you got any gold beads?”
“No,” confessed Eleanor.
“Everybody ought to have gold beads,” Jacqueline laid down a law that she had invented on the spur of the moment. “Most all the girls I knew at school had gold beads—all the big ones, that is, of course, the little third and fourth graders didn’t.”
“I’m going into the fifth grade,” Eleanor said quickly.