She was in a very bad humor, and her warped nature was groping for something on which to vent its accumulated spleen. She rose from the window seat, swept grandly into the next room and glanced at the tableful of silver and ivory.
“It looks fairly well,” she said; for Millicent was one of those persons who grudged even her praise. “What was the amount I promised to pay?”
“I dare say you haven’t forgotten it so soon,” answered the intrepid Madeleine. “Fifteen dollars.”
“Oh, was it so much? Will this evening do? I haven’t that sum on hand just now. I’ll have to go down to the bank.”
“A check will do, then,” said Madeleine, sitting down in one of the carved chairs.
“I never pay with checks. I only pay cash. I would prefer to draw out the money and pay you this evening.”
“Nonsense,” exclaimed Madeleine. “Besides, you know very well that the bank closes on Saturdays at noon, and it’s now nearly four o’clock.”
“So it does. Then you will have to wait until Monday.”
“We won’t wait until Monday,” ejaculated Madeleine. “We haven’t been rubbing silver for our health. You’d better look around in your top drawer and see if you can’t scrape fifteen dollars together, because I tell you plainly if you don’t you’ll regret it.”
“How regret it?” asked the other suspiciously. “I’m not obliged to pay it until Monday, and I won’t,” she added stubbornly.