“I don’t know exactly what you mean by bad, or hopeless; but it’s a fact that so far we’ve been spending a good deal more than my income.”
“I’m sorry, dear, really.” It was the contrition of one absolutely unaccustomed to consideration of ways and means, uncomprehending. 116 “Particularly so just now with winter coming on and—and girls, you know, have to get such a lot of things for winter.”
This time Randall did not smile; neither did he show irritation.
“What, for instance?” he inquired directly.
“Oh, a tailored suit for one thing, and a winter hat, and high shoes, and—and a lot of things.”
“Do you really need them, Margery?” It was prosaic pathos, but pathos nevertheless. “There’s coal to be bought, you know, and my life insurance comes due next month. I don’t want to seem to be stingy, you know that; but—” he halted miserably.
“Need them!” It was mild vexation. “Of course I need them, silly. A girl can’t go around when the thermometer’s below zero with net shirtwaists and open-work stockings.”
“Of course,” quickly. With an effort the smile returned. “Order what you need. I’ll take care of that too”—he was going to repeat “somehow,” then caught himself—“as soon as I can,” he substituted.
The girl looked at him smilingly.
“Poor old Harry, henpecked Harry,” she bantered gayly. Crossing over, her arms went 117 around his neck. “Have an awful lot of troubles, don’t you, professor man!”