But the petted little daughter was never asked to go out and buy a spool
of thread, much less was she consulted in the household economies. All
she noticed was that her clothes were smarter than Cousin Marthe's, who
had a real dressmaker, and was subject to fits of jealous sulks. No
wonder that when money was poured into her lap out in this wonderful
California she had assumed that it was made only to spend.

But she would learn! She would learn! She would ask her mother that very
day to initiate her into the fascinating secrets of personal economies,
teach her how to portion out her quarterly allowance between her
wardrobe, club dues, charities, even her private automobile.

This last heroic suggestion was her own, and although her husband
protested he finally agreed; it was well she should learn just what it
cost to be a woman of fashion in San Francisco, and the allowance was
very generous. His old steward, Mannings, ran the household, although as
he went through the form of laying the bills before his little mistress
on the third of every month, she knew that the upkeep of the San
Francisco house and the Burlingame villa ran into a small fortune a year.

"It is not that I am threatened with financial disaster," Ruyler had said
to her. "But San Francisco has not recovered yet, and it is impossible to
say just when she will recover. I want to be absolutely sure of my
expenditures."

She had promised vehemently, and, as far as he knew, she had kept her
promise. He had received no more bills, and it was obvious that her
haughty chauffeur was paid on schedule time, until, seized with another
economical spasm, she sold her car and bought a small electric which she
could drive herself.