Oh, Money! Money! | Page 7

street was still alight with the last rays of the setting sun.
Suddenly across her worried face flashed a relieved smile.
"Well, if you ain't all here out on the piazza!" she exclaimed, turning, in
at the walk leading up to one of the ornate little houses. "My, ain't this
grand!"
"Oh, yes, it's grand, all right," nodded the tired-looking man in the big
chair, removing his feet from the railing. He was in his shirt- sleeves,
and was smoking a pipe. The droop of his thin mustache matched the
droop of his thin shoulders--and both indefinably but unmistakably
spelled disillusion and discouragement. "It's grand, but I think it's too
grand--for us. However, daughter says the best is none too good--in
Hillerton. Eh, Bess?"
Bessie, the pretty, sixteen-year-old daughter of the family, only
shrugged her shoulders a little petulantly. It was Harriet, the wife, who
spoke--a large, florid woman with a short upper lip, and a bewilderment
of bepuffed light hair. She was already on her feet, pushing a chair
toward her sister-in-law.
"Of course it isn't too grand, Jim, and you know it. There aren't any
really nice houses in Hillerton except the Pennocks' and the old

Gaylord place. There, sit here, Flora. You look tired."
"Thanks. I be--turrible tired. Warm, too, ain't it?" The little dressmaker
began to fan herself with the hat she had taken off. "My, 'tis fur over
here, ain't it? Not much like 'twas when you lived right 'round the
corner from me! And I had to put on a hat and gloves, too. Someway, I
thought I ought to--over here."
Condescendingly the bepuffed head threw an approving nod in her
direction.
"Quite right, Flora. The East Side is different from the West Side, and
no mistake. And what will do there won't do here at all, of course."
"How about father's shirt-sleeves?" It was a scornful gibe from Bessie
in the hammock. "I don't notice any of the rest of the men around here
sitting out like that."
"Bessie!" chided her mother wearily. "You know very well I'm not to
blame for what your father wears. I've tried hard enough, I'm sure!"
"Well, well, Hattie," sighed the man, with a gesture of abandonment. "I
supposed I still had the rights of a freeborn American citizen in my
own home; but it seems I haven't." Resignedly he got to his feet and
went into the house. When he returned a moment later he was wearing
his coat.
Benny, perched precariously on the veranda railing, gave a sudden
indignant snort. Benny was eight, the youngest of the family.
"Well, I don't think I like it here, anyhow," he chafed. "I'd rather go
back an' live where we did. A feller can have some fun there. It hasn't
been anything but 'Here, Benny, you mustn't do that over here, you
mustn't do that over here!' ever since we came. I'm going home an' live
with Aunt Flora. Say, can't I, Aunt Flo?"
"Bless the child! Of course you can," beamed his aunt. "But you won't
want to, I'm sure. Why, Benny, I think it's perfectly lovely here."

"Pa don't."
"Indeed I do, Benny," corrected his father hastily. "It's very nice indeed
here, of course. But I don't think we can afford it. We had to squeeze
every penny before, and how we're going to meet this rent I don't
know." He drew a profound sigh.
"You'll earn it, just being here--more business," asserted his wife firmly.
"Anyhow, we've just got to be here, Jim! We owe it to ourselves and
our family. Look at Fred to-night!"
"Oh, yes, where is Fred?" queried Miss Flora.
"He's over to Gussie Pennock's, playing tennis," interposed Bessie, with
a pout. "The mean old thing wouldn't ask me!"
"But you ain't old enough, my dear," soothed her aunt. "Wait; your turn
will come by and by."
"Yes, that's exactly it," triumphed the mother. "Her turn WILL come--
if we live here. Do you suppose Fred would have got an invitation to
Gussie Pennock's if we'd still been living on the East Side? Not much
he would! Why, Mr. Pennock's worth fifty thousand, if he's worth a
dollar! They are some of our very first people."
"But, Hattie, money isn't everything, dear," remonstrated her husband
gently. "We had friends, and good friends, before."
"Yes; but you wait and see what kind of friends we have now!"
"But we can't keep up with such people, dear, on our income; and--"
"Ma, here's a man. I guess he wants--somebody." It was a husky
whisper from Benny.
James Blaisdell stopped abruptly. Bessie Blaisdell and the little
dressmaker cocked their heads interestedly. Mrs. Blaisdell rose to her
feet and advanced toward the steps to meet the man coming up the
walk.

He was a tall, rather slender man, with