If it had not been for the private parlor and the drawing-room car, they would have limited Captain Horn’s generosity to one hundred dollars.  But, under the circumstances, that sum would have been insufficient.  It must have been nearly, if not quite, two hundred.  As for Mrs. Cliff, she went to bed regretting that her reservations had not been more extended, and that she had not given the gold mound in the cave more company.  She hated prevarications and concealments, but if she must conceal something, she should have concealed more.  When the time came when she would be free to tell of her good fortune, even if it should be no more than she already possessed, then she would explain everything, and proudly demand of her friends and neighbors to put their fingers on a single untruth that she had told them.

For the next day or two, Mrs. Cliff’s joy in living again in her own home banished all other feelings, and as she was careful to say nothing to provoke more questions, and as those which were still asked became uncertain of aim and scattering, her regrets at her want of reticence began to fade.  But, no matter what she did, where she went, or what she looked at, Mrs. Cliff carried about with her a millstone.  It did not hang from her neck, but it was in her pocket.  It was not very heavy, but it was a burden to her.  It was her money—­which she wanted to spend, but dared not.

On leaving San Francisco, Edna had wished to give her the full amount which the captain had so far sent her, but Mrs. Cliff declined to receive the whole.  She did not see any strong reason to believe that the captain would ever send any more, and as she had a home, and Ralph and Edna had not, she would not take all the money that was due her, feeling that they might come to need it more than she would.  But even with this generous self-denial she found herself in Plainton with a balance of some thousands of dollars in her possession, and as much more in Edna’s hands, which the latter had insisted that she would hold subject to order.  What would the neighbors think of Captain Horn’s abnormal bounteousness if they knew this?

With what a yearning, aching heart Mrs. Cliff looked upon the little picket-fence which ran across the front of her property!  How beautiful that fence would be with a new coat of paint, and how perfectly well she could afford it!  And there was the little shed that should be over the back door, which would keep the sun from the kitchen in summer, and in winter the snow.  There was this in one room, and that in another.  There were new dishes which could exist only in her mind.  How much domestic gratification there was within her reach, but toward which she did not dare to stretch out her hand!