“‘I can’t think of anything that I need unless it’s a new jack-knife,’ I said.
“‘Nonsense!’ she exclaimed. ‘You’ve got to let me spend some money for you. I’ve been held down in the expression of my affections as long as I can stand it. I’ve doubled my charities since we were 70 married, as a token of my gratitude, and now I’ve a right to do something to please myself.’
“‘All right! We’ll lift the lid,’ I said. ‘We can lie about it, I suppose, and cover up our folly.’
“‘Well, of course we don’t have to tell what it cost,’ said Betsey; ‘and, Socrates, you can’t expect to reform me in a year. It’s taken half a lifetime to acquire my follies.’
“That’s one trouble with the whole problem. You can’t tear down a structure which has been slowly rising for half a century in a day, or in many days.
“Christmas arrived, and Betsey went down-stairs with me and covered my eyes in the hall and led me to the grand piano. Then I was permitted to look, and there was the most gorgeous set of books that my eyes ever beheld––a set of Smollett, in lovely brown calf, decorated with magnificent gold tooling! Yes, I love such 71 things––who doesn’t?––and I gave Betsey a great hug, and we sat down with tears in our eyes to look at the pages of vellum and the wonderful etchings which adorned so many of them. They were charming. I knew that the books had cost at least a thousand dollars. Grandpa Smead looked awfully stern in his gold frame on the wall.
“‘Now don’t think too badly of me,’ she urged. ‘Every poor family within twenty miles is eating dinner at my expense this Christmas Day.’
“‘You are the dearest girl in all the land!’ I said. ‘There’s nobody like you.’
“‘I knew that you were fond of the classics,’ said Betsey, ‘so I consulted Harry Delance, and he suggested that I should give you a set of Smollett; said it would renew your youth. You know he’s devoted to Smollett.’
“‘And why shouldn’t we keep up with Harry?’ I said.