"I'd like a garret—and bare floors—and music!" she cried.
"What is that about music?" grandmother Lawrence questioned, coming in the door.
She had a string of pearls in her hand, and she fastened it around Auntie May's throat as she spoke. It was a present brought from abroad.
"There, child," she said, not unkindly, "wear your pearls and be happy, and don't let us have any more of this nonsense."
"Nonsense!" Auntie May exclaimed.
"Yes, nonsense," grandmother Lawrence repeated, coldly.
Auntie May's eyes flashed.
"Do you think you can pay me to give him up?" she asked, in growing indignation. "Do you think that I care about pearls? Do you think that I care about anything—but just him?"
She had risen to her feet, and was confronting grandmother.
"Let me be happy in my own way," she pleaded, with soft appeal. "Mother, let me be happy!"