and such, would have to wait until another time, to be sure; but no one
could realize what it would be to him to come home and find that blessed
rod there. He had a wild impulse to go in and buy it that moment, but
such haste seemed too slighting to the dignity of that occasion, which
should allow the sweets of anticipation--though no one knew better than
he the danger of delay where money was concerned: it melted like snow in
the pocket. Extra funds always seemed to bring an extra demand.

The last time there was ten dollars to spare there had been a letter
from Langshaw's mother, saying that his sister Ella, whose husband was
unfortunately out of a position, had developed flat-foot; and a pair of
suitable shoes, costing nine-fifty, had been prescribed by the
physician. Was it possible for her dear boy to send the money? Ella was
so depressed.

The ten dollars had, of course, gone to Ella. Both Langshaw and his wife
had an unsympathetic feeling that if they developed flat-foot now they
would have to go without appropriate shoes.

"You look quite gay!" said his wife as she greeted him on his return,
her pretty oval face, with its large dark eyes and dark curly locks,
held up to be kissed. "Has anything nice happened?"

"You look gay, too!" he evaded laughingly, as his arms lingered round
her. Clytie was always a satisfactory person for a wife. "What's this
pink stuff on your hair--popcorn?"

"Oh, goodness! Baby has been so bad, she has been throwing it round
everywhere," she answered, running ahead of him upstairs to a room that
presented a scene of brilliant disorder.