ordinate her ideas, Dr. Tom
quietly waited for explanation or illustration of her meaning.

"I don't like money, there's the whole of it!" she gave him the sum of
her attempt in one cast.

Dr. Tom continued to wait, smoking.

"In fact, I hate it."

Dr. Tom continued to wait, without interrupting, or trying to help her
disentangle her thought, of which he had in truth no inkling.

"I hate it, and I love it, both. That's truer, I suppose. But I can't be
at rest with it."

"Never fear, girl,"--his tone was humorous,--"you'll get used to it.
Just from watching you, I should have fancied you were pretty well used
to it already."

"When I was a child it was just the same way with candy," she went on
with her own train of thought, not minding his; "I loved it--and gobbled
it right up. Some of the girls made theirs last and last. I ate mine at
once. And it wasn't only because I was a pig with no self-control. I
wanted to have done with it and go back to a sensible life. With this
money I have the same feeling--and then another feeling that I sort of
can't account for, as if I wanted to get rid of it because there was
something wrong in me having it."

"That money? You sure earned it!" he came out vigorously. "Don't be a
goose, Nell."

"I wasn't thinking of what you think. But I'm afraid I am a goose, Tom,
an awful goose, and I'm ashamed of it. I somehow can't feel it
right--there!--to have more than the rest. Come right down to it, I feel
mean in having something the rest haven't got, and keeping it from them,
like a nasty fat boy stuffing pie with a lot of hungry ragamuffins
looking on. I know it isn't good common sense, or how could rich people
be so all right and calm in their minds as they are, and have
everybody's respect? Rich people are all right, I've always sort of
looked up to them, with their advantages and things. I haven't a bit of
fault to find. But Tom, I suppose the amount of it is I was born poor
and I go on having the feelings of the poor. If any one asks me for
anything and appears to need it, I've got to give it or feel too mean to
live. Me, Nell, who was poor myself for so long, how would I look
hardening my heart against any one who came and wanted to borrow? I'd be
ashamed to look them in the eye."

"With that view of it, of course I can see why your money wouldn't last
long."

"Oh, I'm extravagant besides, I'll own to that; that's the _real_
trouble. I want to buy everything that takes my