"The only real liberty I have I take! Anyway, you have enough for a girl
of your age. And you'd better shut up."

"I won't shut up," she retorted irritably. "I want liberty as much as
you do. If I had any, I'd go to every play and opera in New York. And
I'd go about with my friends and I'd have gowns fitted, and I'd have tea
at Sherry's, and I'd shop and go to matinees and to the Exchange, and
I'd be elected a member of the Commonwealth Club and play basket-ball
there, and swim, and lunch and--and then have another fitting----"

"Is that what you'd do with your liberty?" he sneered. "Well, I don't
wonder old Tappan doesn't give you any money."

"I do need money and decent gowns. I'm sick of the frumpy
prunes-and-prisms frocks that Kathleen makes me wear----"

Kathleen's troubled laugh interrupted her:

"Dearest, I do the best I can on the allowance made you by Mr. Tappan.
His ideas on modern feminine apparel are perhaps not yours or mine."

"I should say not!" returned Geraldine angrily. "There isn't a girl of
my age who dresses as horridly as I do. I tell you, Mr. Tappan has got
to let me have money enough to dress decently. If he doesn't, I--I'll
begin to give him as much trouble as Scott does--more, too!"

She set her teeth and stared at her glass of water.

"What about my coming-out gown?" she asked.