m to concern her, even as his fiancee.

"Of that patrimony I now have thirteen cents left," Don continued.
"See, here it is."

He removed from his pocket two nickels and three coppers.

"It doesn't look like much, does it?"

"Oh, Don," she laughed, "do be serious!"

"I am serious," he assured her. "I've been serious ever since I went
to Sherry's for lunch, and found I did not have enough for even a
club sandwich."

"But, Don!" she gasped.

"It's a fact. I had to leave."

"Then where _did_ you lunch?"

"I didn't lunch."

"You mean you did not have enough change to buy something to eat?"

"I had thirteen cents. You can't buy anything with that, can you?"

"I--I don't know."

Suddenly she remembered how, once on her way home from Chicago, she
lost her purse and did not have sufficient change left even to wire
her father to meet her. She was forced to walk from the station to the
house. The experience had always been like a nightmare to her. She
rose and stood before him.

"But, Don--what are you going to do?"

"I telephoned Barton, and he suggested I take some sort of position
with a business house. He's going to find something for me. I'm not
worrying about that; but what I want to know is what I ought to do
about you."

"I don't understand, Don."

"I mean about our engagement."

She looked puzzled.

"I'm afraid I'm very stupid."

"We can't be married on thirteen cents, can we?"

"But we needn't be married until you have more, need we?"

"That's so. And you're willing to wait?"

"You know I've told you I didn't wish to be married before spring,
anyway. I think it's much pleasanter staying just as we are."

"We can't be engaged all our lives," he protested.

"We can be engaged as long as we wish, can't we?"

"I want to marry you as soon as I can."

Her eyes brightened and she placed a soft hand upon his arm.

"That's nice of you, Don," she said. "But you don't know what a
frightfully expensive burden I'll be as a wife."

"If I earned, to start with, say fifty dollars a week--would you marry
me on that?"

"If I did, what would we live on?" she inquired.

"Well, I have the house. That's provided for--all except the table."

"But if I spent the fifty dollars for a new hat, then what would we
have left for provisions?"

"You mustn't spend it all on a new hat," he warned.

"Then, there are gowns and--oh, lots of things you don't know anything
about."

"Couldn't you get along with