"I guess she thought she had done enough for me already," Horatio said lightly. "She knew about Josephine, too—expect she thought the green parlor furniture would be the right thing for us. Josephine's likely to appreciate that more'n you, Milly!"
Milly was amply content with this division.
Husband and wife lay awake for long hours that night, in a flutter of excitement, discussing Milly's marvellous windfall.
"Just think," Milly cried, snuggling very close to her husband. "We'll go abroad as soon as we can pack up, shan't we? And you will paint! And all thanks to poor old grandma."
"It is luck," the artist agreed thankfully.
"And I brought it to you—poor little me, without a sou!... Three thousand ought to last a long time."
(Milly was invariably optimistic about the expansibility of money.)
"It'll be a good starter, anyway," her husband agreed, "and before it's gone I ought to be making good."
So that night two very happy married people went to sleep in each other's arms to dream of a wonderful future.