and
housewife, and thoughtful and calculating business woman; but in the
cozy living-room at night they put the plodding world away, and lived in
another and a fairer, reading romances to each other, dreaming dreams,
comrading with kings and princes and stately lords and ladies in the
flash and stir and splendor of noble palaces and grim and ancient
castles.

CHAPTER II

Now came great news! Stunning news--joyous news, in fact. It came from a
neighboring state, where the family's only surviving relative lived. It
was Sally's relative--a sort of vague and indefinite uncle or second
or third cousin by the name of Tilbury Foster, seventy and a bachelor,
reputed well off and corresponding sour and crusty. Sally had tried to
make up to him once, by letter, in a bygone time, and had not made that
mistake again. Tilbury now wrote to Sally, saying he should shortly die,
and should leave him thirty thousand dollars, cash; not for love, but
because money had given him most of his troubles and exasperations, and
he wished to place it where there was good hope that it would continue
its malignant work. The bequest would be found in his will, and would be
paid over. PROVIDED, that Sally should be able to prove to the executors
that he had TAKEN NO NOTICE OF THE GIFT BY SPOKEN WORD OR BY LETTER,
HAD MADE NO INQUIRIES CONCERNING THE MORIBUND'S PROGRESS TOWARD THE
EVERLASTING TROPICS, AND HAD NOT ATTENDED THE FUNERAL.

As soon as Aleck had partially recovered from the tremendous emotions
created by the letter, she sent to the relative's habitat and subscribed
for the local paper.

Man and wife entered into a solemn compact, now, to never mention the
great news to any one while the relative lived, lest some ignorant
person carry the fact to the death-bed and distort it and make it appear
that they were disobediently thankful for the bequest, and just the
same as confessing it and publishing it, right in the face of the
prohibition.

For the rest of the day Sally made havoc and confusion with his books,
and Aleck could not keep her mind on her affairs, not even take up a
flower-pot or book or a stick of wood without forgetting what she had
intended to do with it. For both were dreaming.

"Thir-ty thousand dollars!"

All day long the music of those inspiring words sang through those
people's heads.

From his marriage-day forth, Aleck's grip had been upon the purse, and
Sally had seldom known what it was to be privileged