“Somebody’s got to give in.  It’s up to me.  Consider that I’ve named it—­never mind pronouncing it out aloud.”

Aleck colored, but was grateful.  Without further remark, they fell.  Fell, and—­broke the Sabbath.  For that was their only free ten-hour stretch.  It was but another step in the downward path.  Others would follow.  Vast wealth has temptations which fatally and surely undermine the moral structure of persons not habituated to its possession.

They pulled down the shades and broke the Sabbath.  With hard and patient labor they overhauled their holdings and listed them.  And a long-drawn procession of formidable names it was!  Starting with the Railway Systems, Steamer Lines, Standard Oil, Ocean Cables, Diluted Telegraph, and all the rest, and winding up with Klondike, De Beers, Tammany Graft, and Shady Privileges in the Post-office Department.

Twenty-four hundred millions, and all safely planted in Good Things, gilt-edged and interest-bearing.  Income, $120,000,000 a year.  Aleck fetched a long purr of soft delight, and said: 

“Is it enough?”

“It is, Aleck.”

“What shall we do?”

“Stand pat.”

“Retire from business?”

“That’s it.”

“I am agreed.  The good work is finished; we will take a long rest and enjoy the money.”

“Good!  Aleck!”

“Yes, dear?”

“How much of the income can we spend?”

“The whole of it.”

It seemed to her husband that a ton of chains fell from his limbs.  He did not say a word; he was happy beyond the power of speech.

After that, they broke the Sabbaths right along as fast as they turned up.  It is the first wrong step that counts.  Every Sunday they put in the whole day, after morning service, on inventions —­inventions of ways to spend the money.  They got to continuing this delicious dissipation until past midnight; and at every seance Aleck lavished millions upon great charities and religious enterprises, and Sally lavished like sums upon matters to which (at first) he gave definite names.  Only at first.  Later the names gradually lost sharpness of outline, and eventually faded into “sundries,” thus becoming entirely—­but safely—­undescriptive.  For Sally was crumbling.  The placing of these millions added seriously and most uncomfortably to the family expenses—­in tallow candles.  For a while Aleck was worried.  Then, after a little, she ceased to worry, for the occasion of it was gone.  She was pained, she was grieved, she was ashamed; but she said nothing, and so became an accessory.  Sally was taking candles; he was robbing the store.  It is ever thus.  Vast wealth, to the person unaccustomed to it, is a bane; it eats into the flesh and bone of his morals.  When the Fosters were poor, they could have been trusted with untold candles.  But now they—­but let us not dwell upon it.  From candles to apples is but a step:  Sally got to taking apples; then soap; then maple-sugar; then canned goods; then crockery.  How easy it is to go from bad to worse, when once we have started upon a downward course!