"One could dress more simply," said Maria Dolores.
"No," said Frau Brandt, her good eyes beaming, "you must always dress in the very finest that can be had."
"But then," Maria Dolores asked with wistfulness, "what am I to do? For six hundred pounds is the total of his income."
"You have, unless I am mistaken, an income of your own," Frau Brandt remarked.
"Yes—but he won't let me use it," said Maria Dolores.
"He? Who?" demanded Frau Brandt, bridling. "Who is there that dares to say let or not let to you?
"My future husband," said Maria Dolores. "He has peculiar ideas of honour. He does not like the notion of marrying a woman who is richer than himself. So he will marry me only on the condition that I send my own fortune to be dropped in the middle of the sea."
"What nonsense is this?" said Frau Brandt, composed.
"No, it is the truth," said Maria Dolores, "the true truth. He is too proud to live in luxury at his wife's expense."
"I like a man making conditions, when it is a question of marrying you," said Frau Brandt, with scorn.