“Now, Tom, for pity’s sake, don’t talk heroics,” said Gertrude.  “I’ve seen you at parties shying around the poorly-dressed girls and picking out the pretty-plumaged birds.  I know all about your heroism.  I’m not blaming you, you understand:  I don’t like to dance or promenade with a gentleman not well dressed.  Next to looking well yourself, you wish your partner to look well.  That’s nature.—­But what are you going to do with your fifteen hundred dollars, anyhow, Susie?”

“I shall add something to it and build a house on one of my lots.”

“’Pon my soul!” said Brother Tom, laughing.

“How perfectly absurd!” exclaimed Gertrude.  “Suppose your house should burn down as soon as it’s finished, as the First Congregational church did?”

“I’d get the insurance on it, as the Congregational church didn’t.”

“What in the world do you want with a house?  Are you going to live in it yourself?  Are you going to get married?” asked Brother Tom.

“I have two objects in building the house,” Susan explained.  “One is to secure a good investment for my money:  the other is to exercise my ingenuity in planning a model house.”

“And in the mean time I am to keep on being Miss Nobody,” Gertrude said warmly, “and lose all the chances of fortune.  I wouldn’t have believed, Susie, that you could be so hard-hearted;” and tears began to gather in Miss Gertrude’s pretty eyes.  “It must be that you want an old-maid sister for company,” she added with some spite.’

Tom went out of the room whistling.  He was apt to run if he perceived a fight waxing.  He had a soft place in his silly heart for his pretty young sister.  He wished Susan would do something for Gertrude:  he thought she might.  He’d feel considerably more comfortable in escorting Gertrude to parties if she ranked higher in the dress-circle.  He’d help her if he could, but he was already behind at his tailor’s and at Hunsaker’s cigar-shop.

“I’m invited to Mrs. Alderson’s next week,” Gertrude continued, “and I’ve nothing on earth to wear but that everlasting old white muslin that I’ve worn five times hand-running.”

“I heard you say that Amanda Stewart had worn one dress to all the parties of this season,” Susan remarked.

“Amanda Stewart can afford to wear one dress:  her father’s worth millions, and everybody knows it.  Everybody knows she can have a dozen new dresses for every day of the year.  But we poor folks have got to give ocular demonstration of our ability to have new dresses, or nobody will ever believe that we can.  Everybody knows that I wear that white muslin because I can’t afford any other, I do wish I could have a new dress for Mrs. Alderson’s:  it will be a dreadfully select party.  I’ve rung all the changes possible on that white muslin:  I’ve worn pink trimmings, and white trimmings, and blue trimmings, and I’ve worn flowers; and now I’m at my wit’s end.”

“I wish I were able to advise you,” Susan said.