you like. I'm going to select a black-opal set for you--they're
the newest thing and the price is scandalous." He paused, eying
her curiously, then with a change of tone inquired, "Say, are you
in mourning for somebody?"

"Why, no."

"You don't seem to care for all these things I've bought."

Lorelei laughed spontaneously, for the first time during the long
day. "Of course I care. But--where is the money coming from? You
haven't a dollar."

"My dear, so long as the Western Union lasts you'll never see a
wrinkle on my brow. We'll begin by destroying everything you own--
hats, gowns, jewelry--then we'll start at the beginning."

Just then the apartment bell rang. Bob went to the door. He
returned with his father at his heels. Mr. Wharton tramped in
grimly, nodded at his daughter-in-law, who had risen at the first
sound of his voice, then ran his eyes swiftly over the
surroundings.

"I hear you've made a fool of yourself again," he began, showing
his teeth in a faint smile. "Have you given up your apartment at
the Charlevoix?"

"Not yet," said Bob. "We're considering a suite at the Ritz for a
few days."