"Making other people rich," responded Brewster, soberly.
"Well, aren't you satisfied with what you have done for me? If you are as charitable as that you must be still pretty sick. Be careful, and you may be on your feet again in five or six weeks."
Harrison came in as Lotless left. Peggy smiled at him from the window. She had been reading aloud from a novel so garrulous that it fairly cried aloud for interruptions.
"Now, Nopper, what became of the ball I was going to give?" demanded Monty, a troubled look in his eyes.
"Why, we called it off," said "Nopper," in surprise.
"Don't you remember, Monty?" asked Peggy, looking up quickly, and wondering if his mind had gone trailing off.
"I know we didn't give it, of course; but what date did you hit upon?"
"We didn't postpone it at all," said "Nopper." "How could we? We didn't know whether—I mean it wouldn't have been quite right to do that sort of thing."
"I understand. Well, what has become of the orchestra, and the flowers, and all that?"
"The orchestra is gallivanting around the country, quarreling with itself and everybody else, and driving poor Gardner to the insane asylum. The flowers have lost their bloom long ago."