"And, David, I think she's coming to talk over things."
"Aunt Clara generally is— What things?"
"Why, our affairs. Money, you know."
His glance sharpened. "Why do you think that?"
"Because—now don't scold!" She brushed an imaginary bit of dust from his shoulder. "Because—I asked her."
"Shirley!" His clasp of her relaxed.
"Now please, don't let's have another scene. What's the use of rich relations if they can't help you out once in a while? You've no right to let your foolish pride cut Davy Junior and me off from Aunt Clara's help."
"Luckily we shan't need her help, because"—it was not so he had thought to tender his gift—"because to-day I got a job."
"A job? Oh, David!" Her arms tightened around his neck, Aunt Clara for the moment forgotten. "What is it?"
He told her.