ce her return, he had thought of broaching the subject of money, but
had refrained. Lois could have anything he had; that was his feeling
about it; and no doubt when she needed money she would ask for it. His
other sisters had never hesitated.

"Just say how much, Lois."

His tone was reassuring. The others had bled him for years; he had kept
an account of his "advances," as they called them, in a pass-book, and
within a few days he had credited Lois with an amount equal to the total
of these sums. It was approximately this amount that he had tried to
bestow upon Phil the previous fall when that unreasonable young person
had scorned it.

Lois had not answered him. Her face wore a look of abstraction and she
compressed her lips poutingly. He had found her increasingly interesting
and amusing as the days passed. The subjects she discussed in their long
evenings together were as various as her costumes. She was always
cheery, always a delight to his admiring eyes. Now that she needed money
she would be sure to ask for it in her own charming fashion.

"Speak up; don't be afraid. The sooner we fix it the quicker we can
forget it," he added kindly.

"I was just wondering how to divide things around a little," she
replied.

"Divide how? Among your creditors?"

"Creditors? Bless your silly head, Amzi, I haven't any creditors!"

"I thought you said you were broke."

"Oh, I believe I did," she replied, still only half-attentive to what he
said, and apparently not particularly interested in explaining herself.
She reached for a pad and made rapid calculations. He lighted a cigar
and watched her gloved hand dancing over the paper. The package she had
tossed on the table was much bewaxed and sealed. "When I said I was
broke, I meant that I hadn't any money in my pocket. I want to open an
account here so I can cash a check. I suppose you haven't any prejudices
against accepting small deposits?"

"No prejudices exactly, Lois; but it's so long since any member of the
family came into this bank without wanting to make a touch that I'm
likely to drop dead."

She laughed, drew out her purse, and extracted three closely folded
slips of crisp paper, took up a pen and scratched her name across the
back of each.

"There," she said, "consider these on deposit and give me a check-book."

He ran the drafts through his fingers, reading the amounts, and from
force of habit compared the indorsement with the name on the face. He
smo