will it all last her?" he asked.

"Why," said the other, "when she gets enough, it'll last her until
spring, of course--unless she goes South during the winter."

"How much is it going to take to dress her for a year?"

"I suppose thirty or forty thousand," was the reply. "I don't expect
to keep count."

Montague sat in silence. "You don't want to shut her up and keep her
at home, do you?" inquired his brother, at last.

"Do you mean that other women spend that much on clothes?"
he'demanded.

"Of course," said Oliver, "hundreds of them. Some spend fifty
thousand--I know several who go over a hundred."

"It's monstrous!" Montague exclaimed.

"Fiddlesticks!" was the other's response. "Why, thousands of people
live by it--wouldn't know anything else to do."

Montague said nothing to that. "Can you afford to have Alice compete
with such women indefinitely?" he asked.

"I have no idea of her doing it indefinitely," was Oliver's reply.
"I simply propose to give her a chance. When she's married, her
bills will be paid by her husband."