relative."

"I don't feel very kindly toward him. He was a meddling old creature.
He never gave any member of the family a cent when they wanted it and
needed it. Now that I've just got my life in shape, and know what I
want to do with it without being beholden to anybody on earth, he
leaves me a whole lot of superfluous money."

"If I weren't engaged to Caroline, who is a jealous woman, though I
say it as shouldn't, I'd be tempted to undertake the management of
your fortune myself," Billy said reflectively; "as it is--honor--"

"I know what I want to do with my life," Nancy continued, as if he had
not spoken. "I want to run an efficiency tea-room and serve dinner and
breakfast and tea to my fellow men and women. I want the perfectly
balanced ration, perfectly served, to be my contribution to the cause
of humanity."

She looked about her ruefully. The sun, through the barred dusty
windows, struck in long slant rays, athwart the confusion of the
cellar, illuminating piles upon piles of gay, blue latticed
chinaware,--cups set out methodically in rows on the lids and bottoms
of packing boxes; assorted sizes of plates and saucers, graded
pyramidically, rising from the floor. There were also individual
copper casseroles and serving dishes, and a heterogeneous assortment
of Japanese basketry tangled in excelsior and tissue. A wandering
sunbeam took her hair, displaying its amber, translucent quality.

"I've just got capital enough to get it going right; to swing it for
the first year, even if I don't make a cent on it. It's my one big
chance to do my share in the world, and to work out my own salvation.
This legacy is a menace to all my dreams and plans."

"I see that," Billy said. "What I don't see is what you gain by
refusing to let it catch up with you."

"You're not it till you're tagged. That's all. If I don't know whether
my income is going to be five thousand dollars or twenty-five thousand
a year, I can go on unpacking teacups with--"

Billy whistled.

"Five thousand or twenty-five--my darling Nancy! You'll have fifty
thousand a year at the very lowest estimate. The actual money is more
than five hundred thousand dollars. The stock in the Union Rubber
Company will amount to as much again, maybe twice as much. You're a
real heiress, my dear, with wads of real money to show for it. That's
what I'm trying to tell you."

"Fifty thousand a year!" Nancy turned a shocked face, from which the
color slowly drained