Part 33 (1/2)
”What do you mean by that?”
”Oh, where she's been this summer she's measured up, of course, with people a great deal richer than she. And she doesn't like it. Here in Hillerton her hundred--and two-hundred-dollar dresses looked very grand to her, but she's discovered that there are women who pay five hundred and a thousand, and even more. She feels very cheap and poverty-stricken now, therefore, in her two-hundred-dollar gowns. Poor Hattie! If she only would stop trying to live like somebody else!”
”But I thought--I thought this money was making them happy,” stammered Mr. Smith.
”It was--until she realized that somebody else had more,” sighed Miss Maggie, with a shake of her head.
”Oh, well, she'll get over that.”
”Perhaps.”
”At any rate, it's brought her husband some comfort.”
”Y-yes, it has; but--”
”What do you mean by that?” he demanded, when she did not finish her sentence.
”I was wondering--if it would bring him any more.”
”They haven't lost it?”
”Oh, no, but they've spent a lot--and Hattie is beginning again her old talk that she MUST have more money in order to live 'even decent.' It sounds very familiar to me, and to Jim, I suspect, poor fellow. I saw him the other night, and from what he said, and what she says, I can see pretty well how things are going. She's trying to get some of her rich friends to give Jim a better position, where he'll earn more. She doesn't understand, either, why Jim can't go into the stock market and make millions, as some men do. I'm afraid she isn't always--patient.
She says there are Fred and Elizabeth and Benjamin to educate, and that she's just got to have more money to tide them over till the rest of the legacy comes.”
”The rest of the legacy!” exploded Mr. Smith. ”Good Heavens, does that woman think that--” Mr. Smith stopped with the air of one pulling himself back from an abyss.
Miss Maggie laughed.
”I don't wonder you exclaim. It is funny--the way she takes that for granted, isn't it? Still, there are grounds for it, of course.”
”Oh, are there? Do YOU think-she'll get more, then?” demanded Mr.
Smith, almost savagely.
Miss Maggie laughed again.
”I don't know what to think. To my mind the whole thing was rather extraordinary, anyway, that he should have given them anything--utter strangers as they were. Still, as Hattie says, as long as he HAS recognized their existence, why, he may again of course. Still, on the other hand, he may have very reasonably argued that, having willed them a hundred thousand apiece, that was quite enough, and he'd give the rest somewhere else.”
”Humph! Maybe,” grunted Mr. Smith.
”And he may come back alive from South America”
”He may.”
”But Hattie isn't counting on either of these contingencies, and she is counting on the money,” sighed Miss Maggie, sobering again. ”And Jim,--poor Jim!--I'm afraid he's going to find it just as hard to keep caught up now--as he used to.”
”Humph!” Mr. Smith frowned. He did not speak again. He stood looking out of the window, apparently in deep thought.
Miss Maggie, with another sigh, turned and went out into the kitchen.
The next day, on the street, Mr. Smith met Mellicent Blaisdell. She was with a tall, manly-looking, square-jawed young fellow whom Mr. Smith had never seen before. Mellicent smiled and blushed adorably. Then, to his surprise, she stopped him with a gesture.