voice. "But I wish--"

"Tell me!" he urged, when she did not finish her sentence.

"Do you think everybody is going to misunderstand me, as you have?"
she asked, somewhat piteously. "Is it so strange and unheard of a
thing for a woman to want a home and--and friends? Isn't it allowable
for a person who has money to want to pay fair wages? Why should I
scrimp and haggle and screw, when I want most of all to be generous?"

"Because," he told her seriously, "scrimping, haggling and screwing
have been the fashion for so long, the other thing rouses mean
suspicions by its very novelty. It's too good to be true; that's
all."

"You mean people will suspect--they'll think there's something--"

She stood before him, her hands fallen at her sides, her eyes
downcast.

"I confess I couldn't believe that there wasn't an ulterior motive,"
he said honestly. "That's where I was less noble than you."

She flashed a sudden strange look at him.

"There is," she breathed. "I'm going to be honest--with you. I
have--an ulterior motive."

"Will you tell me what it is?"