ew what was going on financially
behind the scenes, might look grave and whisper their apprehensions
among themselves. But the people were resolved to be gay. They were mad
with doing, especially the women. All the world was entertained in the
lavish western spirit of hospitality. Thus in addition to her own
private excitement, Milly shared the general festival spirit, and thanks
to her social charm and her young man's reputation for solid achievement
the two were part of many an important festivity. They helped to
entertain the European notables, dined and did the shows from morning
until morning in the best of company. Milly wished it might go on like
this forever.

"Chicago will not be large enough for you after this experience," her
old friend, Eleanor Kemp, observed, crossing her path at the ball for
the French ambassador. "You will have to move on to New York."

"Well, now, I don't know about that," Parker demurred, but Milly cut in
with,--

"We're going abroad first, you know."

She smiled graciously on her old friend, divining exactly that kind
lady's mixed feelings. "Come on, Clarence!" and she sailed off into the
press, bowing and smiling to her right and her left.

In the midst of all this feverish activity there was little time for
mutual examination and discovery for the engaged couple,--all the
better, Milly thought,--and yet she had already resolved upon certain
changes in her husband-to-be, like a competent wife. For one thing she
discovered quite early that Clarence Albert was inclined to be close in
money matters. He always counted his change carefully, like a good
puritan, and gave small tips. He ordered the less expensive dishes and
wines, and inquired whether a single portion might do for two when they
were lunching out together. He did not like to take cabs when the
street-cars were running. Milly had suffered all her life at the hands
of Grandma Ridge from such petty economies, and she did not intend that
it should continue. It was not so much any intentional meanness--if
Milly had but known--as the resultant habit of generations of enforced
thrift. Milly's fingers all turned outwards, and money ran through them
like sand. She was a born Spender and scattered Cash, her own or other
people's, with regal indifference. All her life she had suffered from
cramped means, and now that she was about to marry a rich man she meant
to get the good of it. What am I doing it for? she would ask herself in