plate, untouched indeed sometimes, but oftener sipped from in response to her uncle’s invitation, was not the one from whom help could be expected in this matter.  And Ester wondered if the handsome face opposite her could really be in absolute danger, or whether this was another of Abbie’s whims—­at least it wasn’t pleasant to be drinking wine before him, and she left her glass untouched that day, and felt thoroughly troubled about that and everything.

The next morning there was a shopping excursion, and Ralph was smuggled in as an attendant.  Abbie turned over the endless sets of handkerchiefs in bewildering indecision.

“Take this box; do, Abbie,” Ester urged.  “This monogram in the corner is lovely, and that is the dearest little sprig in the world.”

“Which is precisely what troubles me,” laughed Abbie.  “It is entirely too dear.  Think of paying such an enormous sum for just handkerchiefs!”

Ralph, who was lounging near her, trying hard not to look bored, elevated his eyebrows as his ear caught the sentence, and addressed her in undertone:  “Is Foster hard up?  If he is, you are not on his hands yet, Sis; and I’m inclined to think father is good for all the finery you may happen to fancy.”

“That only shows your ignorance of the subject or your high opinion of me.  I assure you were I so disposed I could bring father’s affairs into a fearful tangle this very day, just by indulging a fancy for finery.”

“Are his affairs precarious, Abbie, or is finery prodigious?”

Abbie laid her hand on a square of cobwebby lace.  “That is seventy-five dollars, Ralph.”

“What of that?  Do you want it?” And Ralph’s hand was in his pocket.

Abbie turned with almost a shiver from the counter.  “I hope not, Ralph,” she said with sudden energy.  “I hope I may never be so unworthy of my trust as to make such a wicked use of money.”  Then more lightly, “You are worse than Queen Ester here, and her advice is bewildering enough.”

“But, Abbie, how can you be so absurd,” said that young lady, returning to the charge.  “Those are not very expensive, I am sure, at least not for you; and you certainly want some very nice ones.  I’m sure if I had one-third of your spending money I shouldn’t need to hesitate.”

Abbie’s voice was very low and sweet, and reached only her cousin’s ear.  “Ester, ‘the silver and the gold are His,’ and I have asked Him this very morning to help me in every little item to be careful of His trust.  Now do you think—­” But Ester had turned away in a vexed uncomfortable state of mind, and walked quite to the other end of the store, leaving Abbie to complete her purchases as she might see fit.  She leaned against the door, tapping her fingers in a very softly, but very nervous manner against the glass.  How queer it was that in the smallest matters she and Abbie could not agree?  How was it possible that the same set of rules could govern them both?  And the old