A very good-looking girl was Dodo, though not showy; and in no way distinguished in dress, which rather annoyed me at first; for I have a great admiration for a well-gowned, well-groomed woman.
My ideas on matrimony were strongly colored by certain facts and figures given me by an old college friend of mine. He was a nice fellow, and his wife one of the loveliest girls of our set, though rather delicate. They lived very comfortably in a quiet way, with a few good books and pictures, and four little ones.
"It's a thousand dollars a year for the first year for each baby," he told me, "and five hundred a year afterward."
I was astonished. I had no idea the little things cost so much.
"There's the trained nurse for your wife," he went on, "at $25.00 a week for four weeks; and then the trained nurse for your baby, at $15.00 a week for forty-eight weeks; that makes $820.00. Then the doctor's bills, the clothes and so on—with the certified milk—easily take up the rest."
"Isn't fifteen dollars a week a good deal for a child's nurse?" I asked.
"What do you pay a good stenographer?" he demanded.
"Why, a special one gets $20.00," I admitted. "But that work needs training and experience."
"So does taking care of babies!" he cried triumphantly. "Don't try to save on babies, Morton; it's poor economy."
I liked his point of view, and admired his family extremely. His wife was one of those sympathetic appreciative women who so help a man in his work. But the prospects of my own marriage seemed remote. That was why I was so glad of a good wholesome companionable friend like Dodo.