“Yes. You use everything you have every day; and you never protect a thing. Actually, I don’t believe there’s a tidy or a linen slip in this house.” (DID Mr. Smith breathe a fervent “Thank the Lord!” Miss Maggie wondered.) “And that brings me right up to something else I was going to say. I want you to know that I’m going to help you.”
Miss Maggie looked distressed and raised a protesting hand; but Mrs. Jane smilingly shook her head and went on.
“Yes, I am. I always said I should, if I had money, and I shall—though I must confess that I’d have a good deal more heart to do it if you weren’t quite so extravagant. I’ve already given you Mr. Smith to board.”
“Oh, I say!” spluttered Mr. Smith.
But again she only smilingly shook her head and continued speaking.
“And if we move, I’m going to give you the parlor carpet, and some rugs to protect it.”
“Thank you; but, really, I don’t want the parlor carpet,” refused Miss Maggie, a tiny smouldering fire in her eyes.
“And I shall give you some money, too,” smiled Mrs. Jane, very graciously,—“when the interest begins to come in, you know. I shall give you some of that. It’s too bad you should have nothing while I have so much.”
“Jane, please!” The smouldering fire in Miss Maggie’s eyes had become a flame now.
“Nonsense, Maggie, you mustn’t be so proud. It’s no shame to be poor. Wasn’t I poor just the other day? However, since it distresses you so, we won’t say any more about it now. I’ll go back to my own problems. Then, you advise me—you both advise me—to move, do you?”