"Was that what you were doing when I came up? Your expression belied you. Instead of looking beatific, you looked worried."
She laughed up at him with warm friendliness as she bent forward and confided in a theatrical whisper:
"You are right. I was figuring finances. I have just——" The color flew to her face as she thought of what he might infer. She stumbled on quite conscious that she was making matters worse. "I'm about at the end of my stamp book and—and—I've developed a sudden fervor for letter writing and—and——" she broke off her breathless explanation as he laid his finely-shaped hand on her saddle-bow. Even back in the Manor days his hands had fascinated her.
"I'm glad that you've brought up the subject of finances, Jerry. The money question between you and me has got to be cleared up, and cleared up now. You've had your way long enough. Don't be foolish any longer, little girl, I——"
"I shall not take your money, Steve. Would you take mine?" then as his eyes darkened stormily, "Oh, truly, I didn't mean to rouse sleeping dogs—but—but I won't take it. I do nothing for you—if I even had anything to do about the house but Ming and Hopi Soy run the household motor noiselessly, perfectly, with every cylinder hitting. If there was anything I could do——"
"There is something you can do."
Jerry's heart flew to her throat. What did he mean? He looked grim and determined.
"W-what is it?" she asked faintly. She put on her hat, tightened her reins unconsciously.
Courtlandt laughed. The sternness left his face. There was an expression in his eyes which she couldn't translate as he teased:
"Don't run, Jerry. You don't trust me over much, do you? To return to finances, if you want to help you can do so tremendously by taking over the accounts and my correspondence. Tommy's had that job but I need him outside. Ranlett's leaving. You'll soon get the hang of the accounting and it won't take much of your time."