"It isn"t a very gay place, is it?"
"It"s considerably gayer than my house on a Sunday," he answered.
"It"s your own fault you don"t enjoy your house more," she declared.
"How is it?"
"Why, it"s a wonderful thing to have a house all of your own. I used to pretend this was a house all of my own."
"Don"t you any longer?"
She was wondering how it would be about that, now that she had allowed him to enter. Of course, she might treat him merely as a guest here; but that was difficult, because the only thing she based her sense of ownership on was the fact that no one else knew anything about the place. She shook her head.
"It"s hard to pretend anything except when you"re alone," she answered.
He sat up.
"Then you oughtn"t to have let me come here with you."
She smiled.
"How could I help it? You just came."
"I know it," he admitted. "I"m always b.u.t.ting in, and you ought to tell me so every now and then."
"Would that make any difference?"
"I don"t know as it would," he admitted. "But it might make me uncomfortable."
"I don"t want to make you uncomfortable. I think you manage to make yourself uncomfortable enough, as it is. And that"s absurd, because just being a man ought to keep you happy all the time."
"I don"t see how you figure that," he answered.
"Being a man is being able to do about anything you wish."
"Don"t you believe it," he replied. "Having money is the only thing that makes you able to do what you wish."
"Oh, dear!" she exclaimed. "Are you going back to that ten thousand a year?"
"Pretty soon now it will be September," he reflected irrelevantly.
"And then?"
"I had rather hoped to get it by then."
"Well, you won"t, so you"d better forget it. I shouldn"t wonder but what you received a raise to two thousand if Farnsworth gets you out selling, and that ought to satisfy you."
Don looked up. Somehow, every time she put it that way it did sound enough. Beside the brook it sounded like plenty.
"Look here," he exclaimed. "Would you marry a man who was only drawing a salary of two thousand?"
For a moment the question confused her, but only for a moment.
"If I was willing to take my chance with a man," she said, "his salary of two thousand would be the least of my troubles."
"You mean you think two could live on that?"
"Of course they could," she answered shortly.
"And have enough to buy clothes and all those things?"
"And put money in the bank if they weren"t two fools," she replied.
"But look here," he continued, clinging to the subject when it was quite evident she was willing to drop it. "I"ve heard that hats cost fifty dollars and more apiece, and gowns anywhere from two hundred to five."
"Yes," she nodded; "I"ve heard that."
"Well, don"t they?" he persisted.
"I don"t remember ever getting any bill of that size," she answered with a smile.
"What do your bills amount to?" he inquired.
Miss Winthrop hesitated a moment.
"If you want to know," she answered finally, "this hat cost me some three dollars with the tr.i.m.m.i.n.gs. And if I ever paid more than twenty-five dollars for a suit, I"d want some one to appoint a guardian for me."
There certainly was a wide margin of difference here in the estimates made by two women--a difference not accounted for, as far as Don could see, in the visible results. He would have liked to continue more into details, but Miss Winthrop rose as if to put an end to this subject.
"I"m hungry," she announced.
"Right," he nodded. "There"s my basket over there, and I"ll let you set the table."
Her idea had been that he was to eat his luncheon and she hers.
However, she had no objection to making things ready for him. So she brought the basket over in front of him and opened it. She gave one look into it.
"Did you buy all this?" she demanded.
"Why, yes," he answered.
She removed the napkin and saw the cold chicken.
"Didn"t you know any better, or were you just trying to see how much money you could throw away?" she inquired.
"Don"t you like chicken?"
"Yes, I like chicken," she answered.
"There are other things underneath, and hot coffee in the bottles," he announced.