"An account? What's that? That wouldn't make me have any more money, would it? Father was always talking about accounts—good ones and bad ones. He kept a store, you know. But I never knew what they were, exactly. I never thought of asking. I never had to pay any attention to money at home. What is an account? How can I get one?"
"Why, you give your orders as usual, but let the payment go until the end of the month," smiled the grocer. "We'll charge it—note it down, you know—then send the bill to your husband."
"And I won't have to ask him for any money?"
"Not to pay us." The man's lips twitched a little.
"Oh, that would be just grand," she sighed longingly. "I'd like that. And it's something the way we're buying our furniture, isn't it?—installments, you know."
The grocer's lips twitched again.
"Er—y-yes, only we send a bill for the entire month."
"And he pays it? Oh, I see. That's just grand! And he'd like it all right, wouldn't he?—because of course he'd have to pay some time, anyhow. And this way he wouldn't have to have me bothering him so much all the time asking for money. Oh, thank you. You're very kind. I think I will do that way if you don't mind."
"We shall be glad to have you, Mrs. Denby. So we'll call that settled. And now you can begin right away this morning."
"And can I get those canned peaches and pears and plums, and the grape jelly that I first looked at?"