outline of the profile, in faint bluish shadows under the eyes, edging
the curved cheeks' bloom.

They had not seen her in two years or more, and she had grown up. They
had merely stepped down-town for a hasty two years' glance at the
market, and, behind their backs, the child had turned into a woman.

Hitherto they had addressed her as "Geraldine" and "child," when a rare
interview had been considered necessary. Now, two years later,
unconsciously, it was "Miss Seagrave," and considerable embarrassment
when the subject of intimate attire could no longer be avoided.

But Geraldine, unconscious of such things, broached the question with
all the directness characteristic of her.

"I am sorry I was rude in my last letter," she said gravely, turning to
Mr. Tappan. "Will you please forgive me?... I am glad you came. I do not
think you understand that I am no longer a little girl, and that things
necessary for a woman are necessary for me. I want a quarterly
allowance. I need what a young woman needs. Will you give these things
to me, Mr. Tappan?"

Mr. Tappan's dry lips cracked apart; he swallowed grimly several times,
then his long bony fingers sought the meagre ends of his black string
tie:

"In the cultiwation of the indiwidool," he began harshly, and checked
himself, when Geraldine flushed to her ear tips and stamped her foot.
Self-control had gone at last.