She failed to satisfy her mother, however. That estimable lady seemed to think that Edith’s wealth was measured only by the number of checks in her check-book, and criticised her daughter loudly for her petty economies. “Don’t buy those cheap shoes, Edith,” she would remark. “It’s quite impossible to get anything fit to wear for less than ten dollars a pair.” Or, “Ready-made corsets, my dear, are an abomination. I insist that you go at once and be measured for half a dozen pair that will really fit.” Edith drew the line at such extravagances, and very nearly precipitated a row. “Let me alone, mother,” she said. “I know what I want, and, after all, it is my money we are spending, not yours.” My money! The irony of the thing did not occur to her. She bought Donald a new gold watch-chain, with match-box, cigar-cutter, knife, pencil and seals, all of gold, attached. When she presented it to him, she felt disappointed at his lack of enthusiasm, and wondered why he did not wear it. The reason was simple—as simple and homely as Donald himself. He detested jewelry, and contented himself with the leather fob initialed in gold which Edith had given him, years before, upon a birthday. He had loved this, because she had saved and denied herself to get it for him. The other, somehow, meant nothing to him.
CHAPTER XIV
Emerson Hall was a young civil engineer, who had pushed his way to the front in his chosen profession because he had both energy and ability. He had been graduated from Columbia some year or two later than Donald, and had at once left New York for Chicago, where he had entered the employ of a large contracting company. Sheer hard work had forced him to the front, and he was now one of the concern’s most trusted men.
Alice Rogers he had met, some time before, at a commencement hop, and he had straightway fallen in love with her. Being in New York but seldom, he had seen very little of her, but the impression she had made upon him persisted, and their courtship, carried on largely by means of an extensive correspondence, had progressed so favorably that Mrs. Pope felt obliged to place him under the ban of her displeasure. Alice, however, paid little attention to her mother’s objections. She had a very clear idea of what she wanted in the world, and what she wanted she determined to get. Emerson Hall was one of the things she wanted, and she bent all her energies to the task of making that young man conclude that life without her to share it would be but a barren waste.
Pursuant to her intentions, Alice had written to Mr. Hall, inviting him to spend his vacation with them at New London. She had asked Edith’s permission, and the latter had granted it gladly. The latter had never met Mr. Hall, but she felt as though she almost knew him, both because he had been an acquaintance of Donald’s and because Alice talked about him so much. Then, too, she felt that she owed him some recompense for his services at the time of West’s death. He had gone to the hospital, in answer to Alice’s wire, only to find that West had died some three days before. This information he had wired to Alice the following day.
The two girls looked forward to his coming with delight. The extensive entertaining which Mrs. Pope had planned had failed to materialize. She found that, after dropping from her visiting-list the friends of her poverty, there remained but few among the elect whose acquaintance she might claim, and these, it seemed, were mostly away for the summer.
Hence the two girls were somewhat lonely in the big and stately house, and Edith found that the time between Monday morning, when Donald departed for the city, and Saturday afternoon, when he returned, hung heavily upon her hands.
She had no housekeeping details to occupy her—Mrs. Pope had insisted upon a competent housekeeper; her duties were confined to signing checks, her pleasures, to enjoying Bobbie’s delight in his surroundings. His pony cart, the boat she had got for him, all his new experiences, made the child feel that he had suddenly entered heaven itself. His cough, his pale cheeks, his fretful nights were a thing of the past. He lived the life of a little savage and health flowed in upon him accordingly.