dollar overcoat for Bert.

Nancy's lip trembled over this last purchase. They were nice
overcoats, remarkable for the price, indeed--"marked down from
twenty-five." But--but she had wanted him to spend every cent of
the fifty dollars for a STUNNING coat! Bert laughed at her April
face. He took her triumphantly to the fifty-cent luncheon and they
talked over it for a blissful hour. And when she left him at the
office door, Nancy consoled herself by drifting into one of the
near-by second-hand bookshops, and buying him a tiny Keats,
"Pepy's Diary" somewhat shabby as to cover, and George's "Progress
and Poverty," at ten cents apiece. These books were piled at
Bert's place that night, and gave him almost as much pleasure as
the overcoat did.

And even Nancy had to confess that the disputed garment looked
warm and thick, when it came home in its green box, and that it
was "fun" to open the other packages, and find the sweater,
looking so wooly and comfortable, and the big basket destined for
so precious a freight! She and Bert laughed and chattered over the
thick papers and strings that bound the freezer and the cooker,
and made chocolate ice-cream for dinner on Sunday, and never ate
their breakfast oatmeal without a rapturous appreciation of the
cooker.




Chapter Seven