“Your uncle will give it to you. He thinks you’re just right and he couldn’t deny you anything.”
“Uncle Ward is a dear and he’s always given me everything I want, but I don’t like to ask for too much.”
“It’s your own money, isn’t it?”
“Yes, Uncle Ward has looked after my property ever since Mother and Father died, but the other day he told me he wanted to have a long talk with me about money. I guess I’ve been using it up dreadfully fast. Boarding school costs such a lot.”
“Well, it shouldn’t cost so much to go camping.”
“No, that’s so,” Doris agreed, more cheerfully. “I think I’ll ask him if I can’t go. Oh, dear, I don’t see why one has to worry about money all the time! I’d just be sick, if I found out I couldn’t go on with my music lessons. It would seem so funny to be poor!”
“I wouldn’t see anything funny about it,” Marshmallow said as he thoughtfully munched a candy bar.
“I didn’t really mean it would be funny,” Doris corrected. “I’ve always had the things I’ve needed and until Uncle Ward spoke to me the other day, it never occurred to me that I didn’t have a substantial income.”
Remembering that she had not read her second letter, she tore open the envelope and glanced curiously at the message. It was written in a fine but cramped hand, and Doris turned over at once to the signature.
“Azalea and Iris Gates,” she read aloud. “How very odd!”