“And what do you do, pray, with all the immense sums you have wheedled out of your father?” asked the doctor, laughing.
“I hope you are not so spooney, papa”—(spooney was a pet word of Leila’s)—“as to think we squander it. Why, mamma always directs just what we shall do with our money. She admits it is our money, and we can do as we like with it; but you see, papa,” continued Leila, with a sly little wink at her mother’s expense, “we don’t ever like, you know!”
The doctor laughed, and said: “Now, then, we’ll change the venue. How much will you sew for by the yard—measuring every inch fairly with your tape measure—provided you can do just what you like with your money?”
“Will five cents be too much, mamma?” asked both the girls in a breath.
“Not if you pay your board out of it, I think,” said Mrs. Forest, smiling sweetly.
“No, no,” said the doctor, “we owe you board, and comfortable clothing and education, from the fact that you were not consulted in the unimportant matter of being born or not born. I assure you, it is folly to squander money; but that is one of the things you must learn by experience. I make you both this offer: five cents for every yard well done and measured by your mother; and no one shall question what you do with your earnings; five cents for every yard well done, and for every dollar earned I will add fifty cents, because this is not shop-work, but what would come under the head of ‘fine sewing,’ I believe.”
The effect was astounding. Mrs. Forest, before a week ended, had positively to scold both girls for their assiduity, and Clara’s sewing went on like magic.
On one of the Sundays between these busy days, Dan came home. He looked worn and sad, Clara thought, and this was enough to move her gentle heart. She sang to him a new song, and when she found a moment alone with him, began to probe him in regard to his sentiments for Susie. She thought the best thing in the world that could happen, would be the marriage of him and Susie, being in a condition of mind herself to consider marriage a panacea and the divinest of all blessings. Dan expressed a desire to “do the right thing.” Clara snapped at this like a hungry little fish at a bait. “Why not marry her at once, then?” Dan’s reply was not wholly satisfactory, but sufficient to induce her to keep Dr. Delano waiting for her that evening a full half hour, while she was away, no one knew where, but in fact closeted with Mrs. Buzzell. The next Sunday, finding home a little more pleasant, Dan appeared again, and Clara was not long in bringing about a private talk. She repeated her question, “Why not marry Susie?” Dan had, in fact, been thinking of Susie with less hard feelings for her crime of loving him too well, and standing between him and Miss Marston, as he thought. But Susie was the only woman who had ever loved him, and he was tempted to do the “right thing” if only to have some one to adore him! Generous man! But then it must be admitted that he was under a spell he had no power to shake off. Miss Marston had inspired a stronger passion in him than any one else ever had, or perhaps could. He could not appreciate the latent qualities in Susie’s character, and if he could, love does not deal with qualities, as such. It is mind that does this, and Dan was a creature of feeling, impulse, rather than of reason. Susie had loved him too fondly, and only with very superior natures does excess of fondness make the subject dearer. The great charm in Miss Marston was the impassable barrier of her total indifference to him; but he could not see the cause. She was superior to him, and that he knew; so, indeed, was Susie, and just as far out of his reach by the superiority of her nature, though not by circumstances.
Dan said this time, in answer to his sister’s question, half in fun, half in earnest, that Susie didn’t care much for him, and that he had “had about enough snubbing lately from women.”
“Oh, how little you know of women!” was Clara’s response.