as when Kate had
disappeared into the hotel.

The automobile ran quietly, and the springs, as the codfish said, were
"grasshoppers." The motor made a pleasant purring, not much louder than
Timmy's when you scratched his head through the open roof of his basket.
It was a small car, but as Angela wanted it only to run about the
neighbouring country, keeping Los Angeles as a centre, she began to think
that she might as well engage it. After the poor codfish had given her
this run for nothing, how could she disappoint him?

Exactly what she meant to do when she stopped before the shop of Thomas
Barrymore & Company she could not have explained, even to herself. Perhaps
she had the curiosity to see how the bag would look in the window, in case
the jeweller had placed it there; and sure enough, he had displayed it,
anxious not to miss a sale. There were other gold bags, but this one--of
many adventures--was by far the most beautiful; and suddenly she knew why
she had come. She was going to buy the thing for herself. She could not
bear to let any one else own that bag.

Of course, if she had been sensible and business-like, she might have told
Kate before selling to inquire at some shop what would be a fair price;
and then she might have offered the girl that amount. Now she must pay for
her pride; and having less than half the income of the Princess di Sereno,
Mrs. May ought to have been thinking about the California land she wished
to purchase before committing useless extravagances which she could no
longer afford. Besides, if she bought back the bag, she would always be
ashamed to use it under the eyes of Kate.

She pointed it out to one of the Barrymore assistants, who said it had
just arrived from Paris, and the price was seven hundred and fifty
dollars. For her life, Angela could not have contradicted him or haggled.
Luckily, or unluckily, her money had come from San Francisco. It served
her right, she thought, to pay two hundred and fifty dollars more than if
she had dealt with Kate. She should have been ashamed even to want Mr.
Hilliard's bag, still more to buy it; and she took away her purchase in a
beautiful box, with all the joy of a normal female thing who has secured
for her own something which she ought not to have. When Angela di Sereno
had been able to afford everything, she had longed for nothing. There was
a new spice in life. And the redemption of the bag was to be a dead
secret.

"Back to the hotel, pl