All day long the music of those inspiring words sang through
those people's heads.

From his marriage-day forth, Aleck's grip had been upon the purse,
and Sally had seldom known what it was to be privileged to squander
a dime on non-necessities.

"Thir-ty thousand dollars!" the song went on and on. A vast sum,
an unthinkable sum!

All day long Aleck was absorbed in planning how to invest it,
Sally in planning how to spend it.

There was no romance-reading that night. The children took
themselves away early, for their parents were silent, distraught,
and strangely unentertaining. The good-night kisses might as well
have been impressed upon vacancy, for all the response they got;
the parents were not aware of the kisses, and the children had
been gone an hour before their absence was noticed. Two pencils
had been busy during that hour--note-making; in the way of plans.
It was Sally who broke the stillness at last. He said, with exultation:

"Ah, it'll be grand, Aleck! Out of the first thousand we'll have
a horse and a buggy for summer, and a cutter and a skin lap-robe
for winter."

Aleck responded with decision and composure--

"Out of the CAPITAL? Nothing of the kind. Not if it was a million!"