"But you have accounts," Aunt Abby said, absently, for she-was
scanning the paper now.

"Accounts! Of course, I have! But there are a thousand things
one wants cash for! You know that perfectly well. Why, when our
car was out of commission last week and I had to use a taxicab,
Sanford would give me just enough for the fare and not a cent
over to fee the driver. And lots of times I need a few dollars
for charities, or some odds and ends, and I can't have a cent to
call my own! Al Hendricks may be of coarser clay than Sanford
Embury, but he wouldn' treat a wife like that!"

"It is annoying, Eunice, but Sanford is so good to you--"

"Good to me! Why shouldn't he be? It isn't a question of
goodness or of generosity--it's just a fool whim of his, that I
mustn't ask for actual cash! I can have all the parties I want,
buy all the clothes I want, get expensive hats or knick-knacks of
any sort, and have them all charged. He's never even questioned
my bills--but has his secretary pay them. And I must have some
money in my purse! And I will! I know ways to get it, without
begging it from Sanford Embury!"

Eunice's dark eyes flashed fire, and her cheeks burned scarlet,
for she was furiously angry.

"Now, now, my dear, don't take it so to heart," soothed Aunt
Abby; "I'll give you some money. I was going to make you a
present, but if you'd rather have the money that it would cost,
say so."