"Of course it's expensive?"
"Yes, and there's nothing like it in America. Nobody in our country would ever have the patience to do it. Of course I have to pay a tax, besides, on every piece. But the stores are enthusiastic, they ordered all I had. Except——" he dug smilingly into his pocket—"except this handkerchief I saved for you."
Linda opened the small package eagerly, and disclosed the daintiest, loveliest thing of its kind that she had ever seen. Filmy net-work, made with infinite patience, probably as the nuns had learned from their sisters in France. It was exquisite.
"Oh, Daddy, I adore it!" she cried.
"Rather a queer present for a girl who wants to be a licensed mechanic," he remarked, whimsically.
"But I love things like this, too!" she hastily assured him. "And I can appreciate its value. Why, all my friends will be green with envy!"
"Then they can easily buy them in New York," he said. "If you show it to your rich friends, you'll help my business....
"Now, another thing, Daughter, while we're on this subject. As I told you, I've lost some money, and my expenses are pretty heavy. So I'm just taking a precaution, in case I should fail in this business, of putting thirty thousand dollars in bonds aside in your name. Just so you won't be penniless."
"That's awfully sweet of you, Daddy! But can you afford it?"
"Yes, certainly."