"Yes, that is true," replied Martine, undisturbed by her own inconsistency, "but all the same it isn't pleasant to be left out, and I really don't like being economical, although I have to pretend I don't mind. I suppose that's why some people slight me. I never believed before that money made any difference, but now I know."
"Martine," said Clare, "you are ridiculous. I believe you have been working too hard, and so are a little run down."
"I haven't slept well lately," Martine admitted, "I have been thinking so much about my father and Lucian."
"Isn't your father improving?"
"The last letter was more cheerful. But we haven't heard for three weeks, and I am wondering what we shall do next year if he has lost all his money. It will be so hard for Lucian to give up college."
Clare was at a loss for a reply. Mrs. Stratford and Martine were new friends and she really knew little about their affairs. She had to content herself with rather vague attempts to cheer Martine, and she was gratified before they reached their stopping place to see the smiles return to Martine's face.
It was almost dusk as the car sped down a long hill near the Country Club.
"Why, that was Carlotta driving," exclaimed Clare, as they passed a restive horse that was driven by a girl in a high cart.
"She has poor control of her horse," rejoined Martine.
"It's curious," added Clare, "that Carlotta, who is so good at other sports, knows so little about a horse. She seldom drives alone. I wonder how it happens that no one is with her now."