ed all the distraction she could get, for these were not happy
days for Adelle within her big new house. The inexplicable stringency of
money grew worse, and there were constant quarrels between her and
Archie over her "extravagance" when he was at home. Adelle could not
understand why she should be obliged to curb her prodigal hand in making
"improvements" at Highcourt. Did the trust officers not tell her that
hers was a "large fortune," not far from five millions, enough surely to
permit a woman freedom for every whim? If there was trouble about money,
it must be Archie's fault: she wished she had never consented to take
her property out of the safe keeping of the careful trust company. Her
logic in these discussions, if irrefutable, was bitter, and Archie
resented it, all the more because he knew that he had made a fool of
himself with his wife's ample fortune, and allowed stronger men to bite
him. He had not sufficient character to confess the fact and refrain
altogether from further speculation. He tried instead to make good what
had been lost in Seaboard and was always nagging Adelle to dispose of
certain stocks and bonds that still remained from the investments of the
prudent trust company. But Adelle was obstinate: she would not sell
anything more. So Archie's large debit at his brokers went on rolling
up, and there continued to be "words" at Highcourt whenever he was
there, which was less often then he might have been.

Proverbially, money is the cause of the bitterest disputes in families.
Abstractly it might seem remarkable that this should be so, but the
peculiar nature of property of all sorts is that it becomes the inmost
shrine of its possessor's being, and when the shrine is robbed or
desecrated, the injured personality resents the outrage with bitterness.
Many a man or woman will submit with Christian fortitude to insults upon
character or positive unjust burdens, but will flame into rebellion at
the least touch upon the purse. In the case of Archie and Adelle it was
all the more remarkable because neither had been born to wealth so that
property could become a part of the nature: they were both "the spoiled
children of fortune" as the story-books say, having had their wealth
thrust upon them unexpectedly, and so might take its loss lightly. Not
at all! Adelle felt as much wronged as if she had been the last of an
ancient line of dukes and duchesses or had accumulated the riches of
Clark's Field by a lif