“Oh, I am such a dunce! I am afraid my being poor has a kind of musical comedy effect in my mind so far. What are you going to do with me, Douglas?”
“Nothing, honey, but you must not get angry with me when I call you down about money. I feel so responsible somehow.”
“Angry with you! Why, I think you are just splendid, and I am going to be so careful I just know you will never have to call me down.”
Douglas smiled, knowing very well that Helen and economy were not meant to dwell together.
“There is only one thing I am going to make all of you promise, that is NOT TO CHARGE,” with great emphasis.
“Oh, of course not after we get started, but how are we to get our outfits for the mountains? Our khaki skirts and leggins and things that are appropriate? And then the cotton stockings that I have sworn to wear until Father is well! I have to have a new set of them. Ugh! how I hate ’em!”
“But, Helen, we have our Camp-Fire outfits that are thoroughly suitable for what we are going to do. There are loads of middy blouses in the house, so I am sure we need buy no more of them. As for stockings—it seems to me you had better wear out what stockings you have, even if they are silk, before you buy any more.”
“Never! You don’t seem to understand the significance of my oath. When a pilgrim of old swore to put on sackcloth and travel to some distant shrine, he didn’t say he would not go to the expense of sackcloth since he had plenty of velvet suits on hand, did he now? No! He went and bought some sackcloth if he didn’t happen to have any in the house and gave his velvet suits to the poor or had his hand-maidens pack them up in frankincense and myrrh or something until he got back——”
“All right! All right! But please don’t give away anything to the poor. If Cousin Lizzie should hear of your doing such a thing she would certainly say: ‘Charity begins at home.’”
“I won’t give them away if you think I shouldn’t, but I’d like to put temptation out of my reach. I hope we can get off to the mountains real soon as I am sure I have no desire to flaunt my penance in the face of the Richmond public. Don’t you think, Douglas, that I might have the fifty-nine cents that is in the bank so things will balance better, and with fifty-nine cents I can get three pair of sixteen-and-two-third-cent stockings? I’ll bring back the nine cents change.” Helen was quite solemn in her request, but Douglas was forced to laugh at her lugubrious countenance.