his delusion, and freely said that Lapham was very suggestive.
Together they blocked out windows here, and bricked them up there; they
changed doors and passages; pulled down cornices and replaced them with
others of different design; experimented with costly devices of
decoration, and went to extravagant lengths in novelties of finish.
Mrs. Lapham, beginning with a woman's adventurousness in the unknown
region, took fright at the reckless outlay at last, and refused to let
her husband pass a certain limit. He tried to make her believe that a
far-seeing economy dictated the expense; and that if he put the money
into the house, he could get it out any time by selling it. She would
not be persuaded.

"I don't want you should sell it. And you've put more money into it
now than you'll ever get out again, unless you can find as big a goose
to buy it, and that isn't likely. No, sir! You just stop at a hundred
thousand, and don't you let him get you a cent beyond. Why, you're
perfectly bewitched with that fellow! You've lost your head, Silas
Lapham, and if you don't look out you'll lose your money too."

The Colonel laughed; he liked her to talk that way, and promised he
would hold up a while.

"But there's no call to feel anxious, Pert. It's only a question what
to do with the money. I can reinvest it; but I never had so much of it
to spend before."

"Spend it, then," said his wife; "don't throw it away! And how came
you to have so much more money than you know what to do with, Silas
Lapham?" she added.

"Oh, I've made a very good thing in stocks lately."

"In stocks? When did you take up gambling for a living?"

"Gambling? Stuff! What gambling? Who said it was gambling?"

"You have; many a time."

"Oh yes, buying and selling on a margin. But this was a bona fide
transaction. I bought at forty-three for an investment, and I sold at
a hundred and seven; and the money passed both times."

"Well, you better let stocks alone," said his wife, with the
conservatism of her sex. "Next time you'll buy at a hundred and seven
and sell at forty three. Then where'll you be?"

"Left," admitted the Colonel.

"You better stick to paint a while yet." The Colonel enjoyed this too,
and laughed again with the ease of a man who knows what he is about. A
few days after that he came down to Nantasket with the radiant air
which he wore when he had done a good thing in business and wanted his
wife's sympathy. He did not