the famous commission, but still important. Neither he nor Nancy
kept accounts any more, bills were paid as they came in, and money
was put into the bank as it came in. Nancy had a check book, but
she rarely used it. Sometimes, when Mrs. Biggerstaff or Mrs.
Underhill asked her to join a Girls' Home Society or demanded a
prize for the Charity Bridge, Nancy liked to show herself ready to
help, but for other purposes she needed no money. She ordered all
household goods by telephone, signed "chits" at the club, kept her
bridge winnings loose in a small enamelled box, ready for losing,
and, when she went into town, charged on her accounts right and
left, and met Bert for luncheon. So that, when they really had
their first serious talk about money, Nancy was able to say with a
quite plausible air of innocence, "Well, Bert, I haven't asked you
for one cent since the day I needed mileage. I don't WASTE money!
I never DID."

"Well, we've got it!" Bert said uncomfortably, on the day of this
talk. He had vaguely hoped, as the month went by, that it was
going to show him well ahead financially. However, if things
"broke even," he might well congratulate himself. Certainly they
were having a glorious time, there was no denying that.

"Do you recognize us, Bert?" Nancy sometimes asked him exultingly,
as she tucked herself joyously into somebody's big tonneau, or
snatched open a bureau drawer to find fresh prettiness for some
unexpected outing. "Do you remember our wanting to join the Silver
River Country Club! That little club!"

"Gosh, it's queer!" Bert would agree, grinning. And late in the
second summer he said, "If I put the Buller deal over, I think