“Then why didn’t you buy it?” snapped Angela, angrily.
“Oh, we did!” replied Dodo. “At least, I did. But I couldn’t carry it out, so it will have to be shipped home when the other things go.”
“You got it?” cried her mother. “What for?”
“For my shop, of course. I’m going into decorating, too, and open a fine place of business,” giggled Dodo, tantalizingly.
“Not on my money! You’ve got to make a good match over here,” commanded her mother.
Little Mr. Alexander had not had much chance to speak during the day, as antiques and talks on such subjects were not in his line. But now he scented battle on his own preserves, and he threw out his chest and thrust his hands deep into his trouser pockets—a habit he had when he wished to impress his wife.
“Well, now, mebbe Dodo can’t open shop on your money, Maggie, but she can on mine! If she wants to do that ruther’n get spliced to a furriner, who’s going to stop her, I’d like to know!”
That effectually ended the tirade for the time being, and when everybody was seated again, Jimmy was made supremely happy to find Ruth beside him, once more.
The only subject that interested the majority of the tourists that evening, after dinner, was the discussion of the various pieces purchased that day, and the examination of them. Mr. Ashby and Mr. Fabian knew so much about collections of antiques that the stories they told were most interesting to the girls.
But Jimmy and Mrs. Alexander were bored to death by the conversation, so that they soon made their way out of the hotel, in search of distraction. Not long after they had escaped from the company of the others, another packet of bills passed from Mrs. Alexander’s hands to the young man’s pockets. But it was a personal matter that concerned no one but themselves, said she, and Jimmy anxiously agreed to the condition.