"That's foolish. How can I help troubling myself? And if it was any use to think about it, to be sure I needn't be troubled. Dolly, it torments me day and night!" And tears that were bitter came into Mrs. Copley's eyes.
"It need not, dear mother. Money is not the only thing in the world; nor the best thing."
"And that's silly, too," returned her mother. "One's bread and butter may not be the best thing in the world,—I am sure this bread ain't,—but you can't live without it. What can you do without money?"
"I never tried, you know," said Dolly; "but I should think it would be possible to be happy."
"Like a child!" said her mother. "Children always think so. What's to make you happy, when the means are gone? No, Dolly; money is everything, in this world. Without it you are of no consequence, and you are at everybody's mercy; and I can tell you one thing besides;—if the women could be happy without money, the men cannot. If you don't give a man a good breakfast, he'll be cross all day; and if his dinner don't suit him, you'll hear of it for a week, and he'll go off to the club besides."
"He cannot do that without money," said Dolly, trying to laugh.
"Then he'll stay at home, and torment you. I tell you, Dolly, life ain't worth having, if you haven't got money. That is why I want you to like"—— Mrs. Copley broke off suddenly.
"I should think one might have good breakfasts and dinners even if one was poor," said Dolly. "They say French women do."
"What French women do is neither here nor there. I am talking about you and me. Look at this bread,—and see that omelette. I can tell you, nothing on earth would keep your father down here if he couldn't have something better to eat than, that."
Dolly began to ponder the possibility of learning the art of cookery.