"You remember Mrs. Clausen, George?"
"Have we got to load up with her, too?"
"Let me explain. You recall that I told her I would try to make her comfortable, and when I found that our circumstances were going to be really straitened, I sent her my red flannel petticoat with my love, for I know she can be comfortable in that."
"Of course she can."
"So this afternoon when I came up from the city she got out of the train with me and I felt so half-ashamed of the gift that I pretended not to see her and hurried out to the carriage and drove quickly up the hill. She is afraid of horses, anyhow."
"Always was," said George.
"But, George, I don't feel quite right about it yet; the gift of a petticoat is rather stingy, isn't it?"
"No, I don't think so."
"And, George, to be perfectly honest with ourselves now, don't you think we are a little bit meaner than we were, say, last June?"
George cleared his throat and hesitated, and then he said: