"Why, Sophie Lyons, how do you do?" she said, with the well-bred cordiality which was such an important part of her stock in trade. "Come in and have some tea with me."
As we entered a well known restaurant I noted with envious eyes the evidences of prosperity which Carrie flaunted. From the long ostrich plume which drooped from her Parisian hat to the shiny tips of her high-heeled shoes she was dressed in the height of fashion and expense. At her throat sparkled a valuable diamond brooch, and, when she removed her gloves, there flashed into view a princely array of rings which made my own few jewels look quite cheap and insignificant.
WE PLAN TO START A BANK
And yet, except for this somewhat too lavish display of jewelry, there was nothing loud or overdressed about her. It was plain that she knew how to buy clothes, and her tall, well-rounded figure set off her stylish garments admirably. In every detail—her well kept hands, her gentle voice, her superb complexion, and the dainty way she had of wearing her mass of chestnut hair—she was the personification of luxury and refinement. As she looked that day Carrie Morse would have passed anywhere without the slightest question for the beautiful and cultured wife of some millionaire.
All these facts, which I took in at a glance, made me less inclined to question too closely the motives which had prompted her to hail me as an old friend when we had never had even a speaking acquaintance. Quite evidently she had lots of money or an unlimited line of credit. How did she get it? That was what I was curious to find out. I made up my mind that I would be just as nice to her as I knew how—hoping that I might learn from her a new and easy road to wealth.
By the time our tea was served we were chatting away like old friends.
"Sophie," she said, "I'm going to take you into my confidence and help you make a lot of money. You and I will start a bank."
"You mean, rob a bank, don't you?" I said, not quite able to believe my ears.
"I mean nothing of the sort," she said, setting down her teacup with a thump. "You and I will start a bank. It will be a bank for ladies only. Any woman who has a little money saved up can come to us for advice. We will take her money and show her where she can invest it so that she will get more interest than she could in any other way."
"But I don't know anything about running a bank," I protested. "I'm Ned Lyons's wife—he and I are bank robbers, not bank owners."