“‘There you go, Ethel, inventing millions for her just as you invented grandchildren.’”
“‘Not at all. Unless she constantly had money lying idle, she could not take these continual plunges. She is an old woman with few expenses, and she lives well within her income. You would hear of her entertaining if it was otherwise. So instead of conservatively investing her surplus, she makes ducks and drakes of it in her son’s office. Is he at Hyde Park now?’ Hyde Park was where the old Beverly country seat had always been.”
“‘No,’ I answered. ‘He went to Europe early last month.’”
“‘Very likely he took her with him. She is probably at Monte Carlo.’”
“‘Scarcely in August, I fancy. And I’ll tell you what, Ethel. I have been counting it up. She has lost twenty-four thousand dollars in the Standard Egg alone. It takes a good deal of surplus to stand that.’”
“‘Serve her right,’ said Ethel ‘And I would say so to her face.’”
“September brought freshness to the stock market but not to me. Mr. Beverly, like the well-to-do man that he was, remained away in Europe until October should require his presence as a guiding hand in the office. Thus was I left without his buoyant consolation in the face of my investments.”
“Petunias were being adjusted on a four per cent basis; Dutchess and Columbia Traction was holding its own; I could not complain of Amalgamated Electric, though it was now lower than when I had bought it, while had I sold it on that Wednesday in May when Ethel begged me, before the increased dividend turned out a mistake, I should have made money. But Philippi Sewers were threatened; Pasteurised Feeders had been numb since June; Pollyopolis Heat, Light, Power, Paving, Pressing, and Packing was going to pass its quarterly dividend; and Standard Egg had gone down from 63 to 7 1/8. My million dollars on paper now was worth in reality less than a quarter of that sum, and although we could still make both ends meet fairly well in some place where you wouldn’t want to live, like Philadelphia, in New York we should drop into a pinched and dwarfed obscurity.”
“I must say now, and I shall never forget, that Ethel during these gloomy weeks behaved much better than I did. The grayer the outlook became, the more words of hope and sense she seemed to find She reminded me that, after all my Uncle Godfrey’s legacy had been a thing unlooked for, something out of my scheme of life that I had my youth, my salary and my writing; and that she would wait till she was as old at Mr. Beverly’s mother.”
“It was the thought of that lady which brought from Ethel the only note of complaint she uttered in my presence during that whole dreary month.”