Inwardly, Miss Lucinda sighed; she knew it, and she had hoped,—but now—
“What’s Blue Bonnet getting for an allowance, Miss Clyde?” Mr. Ashe asked.
“Three dollars a month.”
“I didn’t know until this morning that she had been put on an allowance.”
“It was the only thing to do. Blue Bonnet has no idea whatever as to the value of money.”
“I should judge she ought to have by now.”
“I am hoping she will have—a little. She gave her purse and its entire contents away—to say nothing of a new winter gown—on a moment’s impulse. Had there been thirty dollars in her purse instead of three, it would probably have been just the same.”
“I reckon it would,” Mr. Ashe agreed so cheerfully that again Miss Lucinda sighed inwardly.
“She would give her head, Blue Bonnet would, if it wasn’t fastened on, and anyone asked her for it.”
“She certainly loses it with deplorable frequency,” Miss Lucinda remarked.