"And I repeat," continued the old lady, somewhat less harshly,
though not less resolutely, "this season ends it. You must marry
or I'll stop your allowance. You'll have to look to your mother
for your dresses and hats and gee-gaws. When I think of the
thousands of dollars I've wasted on you--It's cheating--it's
cheating! You have been stealing from me!" Madam Bowker's tone was
almost unladylike; her ebon staff was flourishing threateningly.

Margaret started up. "I warned you at the outset!" she cried. "I
took nothing from you that you didn't force on me. And now, when
you've made dress, and all that, a necessity for me, you are going
to snatch it away!"

"Giving you money for dress is wasting it," cried the old lady.
"What is dress for? Pray why, do you imagine, have I provided you
with three and four dozen expensive dresses a year and hats and
lingerie and everything in proportion? Just to gratify your
vanity? No, indeed! To enable you to get a husband, one able to
provide for you as befits your station. And because I have been
generous with you, because I have spared no expense in keeping you
up to your station, in giving you opportunity, you turn on me and
revile me!"

"You HAVE been generous, Grandmother," said Margaret, humbly.
There had risen up before her a hundred extravagances in which the
old lady had indulged her--things quite unnecessary for show, the
intimate luxuries that contribute only indirectly to show by
aiding in giving the feeling and air of refinement. It was of
these luxuries that Margaret was especially fond; and her