Adelle, who did not understand the mental jump of a figure of speech, stared at him blankly.
"It's too bad," she observed placidly at last.
"Yes, it is decidedly too bad for them," the banker repeated ironically. "But it's life."
After this profound reflection they paddled idly for a few moments, and then the trust officer resumed, nearer to his theme.
"So you see, Miss Clark, you're likely to be a pretty rich woman when you come of age. The old leases on the estate are running out, and as fast as they can the managers of the Clark's Field Associates sell at a good price or make a long lease at a high figure and everything helps to swell the estate, which we are investing safely for you in good stocks and bonds that are sure to increase in value before you will want to sell them."
"How much money is there?" Adelle demanded unexpectedly. This was her opportunity to discover the size of her magic lamp.
"I couldn't say off hand," the banker replied cautiously. "But enough to keep you from want, if you don't spend too much making jewelry." He added facetiously,—"You don't feel cramped for money, do you?"
"No-o," the girl admitted dubiously. "But you can't always tell what you may want."
"If you don't want much more than you do at present, you're safe," Mr. Crane stated guardedly. "That is, if nothing goes wrong—a panic, and that sort of thing."
After a pause he said,—