I went to a store near Buckleton’s. While I was looking at the étagère my late creditor came into the store. I was just closing the bargain at ninety-five dollars. Buckleton had heard from his lawyer, and was glad to meet me. I was glad to have him see me purchase this piece of furniture. He spoke to me. I did not answer him. He attempted to apologize. I did not look at him. I closed my bargain, and asked for the bill. Buckleton was evidently vexed, and felt as any man does when he has lost a customer. I enjoyed it.
“I will sell you that same article for seventy-five dollars,” he whispered in my ear, just before I closed the bargain.
“I would not take it, if you would give it to me,” I replied.
“I think I made a mistake to-day.”
“The mistake of your lifetime,” I retorted. “Don’t speak to me again. I despise you.”
I stalked out of his reach, paid my bill, and went home. In the evening Lilian and I made out the list of invitations. Of course I could not overrule Lilian’s decisions, and not less than fifty were invited—all our house would hold. It included my rich friend’s family, and I began to tremble for the result.