"
"I know," agreed John fervently. "When I was visiting the
Schnlitzer-Murphys, the eldest daughter, Gwendolyn, married a man
whose father owns half of West Virginia. She wrote home saying what a
tough struggle she was carrying on on his salary as a bank clerk--and
then she ended up by saying that 'Thank God, I have four good maids
anyhow, and that helps a little.'"
"It's absurd," commented Kismine--"Think of the millions and millions
of people in the world, labourers and all, who get along with only two
maids."
One afternoon late in August a chance remark of Kismine's changed the
face of the entire situation, and threw John into a state of terror.
They were in their favourite grove, and between kisses John was
indulging in some romantic forebodings which he fancied added
poignancy to their relations.
"Sometimes I think we'll never marry," he said sadly. "You're too
wealthy, too magnificent. No one as rich as you are can be like other
girls. I should marry the daughter of some well-to-do wholesale
hardware man from Omaha or Sioux City, and be content with her
half-million."
"I knew the daughter of a wholesale hardware man once," remarked
Kismine. "I don't think you'd have been contented with her. She was a
friend of my sister's. She visited here."
"Oh, then you've had other guests?" exclaimed John in surprise.
Kismine seemed to regret her words.
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