“Thir-ty thousand dollars!”

All day long the music of those inspiring words sang through those people’s heads.

From his marriage-day forth, Aleck’s grip had been upon the purse, and Sally had seldom known what it was to be privileged to squander a dime on non-necessities.

“Thir-ty thousand dollars!” the song went on and on.  A vast sum, an unthinkable sum!

All day long Aleck was absorbed in planning how to invest it, Sally in planning how to spend it.

There was no romance-reading that night.  The children took themselves away early, for their parents were silent, distraught, and strangely unentertaining.  The good-night kisses might as well have been impressed upon vacancy, for all the response they got; the parents were not aware of the kisses, and the children had been gone an hour before their absence was noticed.  Two pencils had been busy during that hour—­note-making; in the way of plans.  It was Sally who broke the stillness at last.  He said, with exultation: 

“Ah, it’ll be grand, Aleck!  Out of the first thousand we’ll have a horse and a buggy for summer, and a cutter and a skin lap-robe for winter.”

Aleck responded with decision and composure—­

“Out of the capital?  Nothing of the kind.  Not if it was a million!”

Sally was deeply disappointed; the glow went out of his face.

“Oh, Aleck!” he said, reproachfully.  “We’ve always worked so hard and been so scrimped:  and now that we are rich, it does seem—­”

He did not finish, for he saw her eye soften; his supplication had touched her.  She said, with gentle persuasiveness: 

“We must not spend the capital, dear, it would not be wise.  Out of the income from it—­”

“That will answer, that will answer, Aleck!  How dear and good you are!  There will be a noble income and if we can spend that—­”

“Not all of it, dear, not all of it, but you can spend a part of it.  That is, a reasonable part.  But the whole of the capital —­every penny of it—­must be put right to work, and kept at it.  You see the reasonableness of that, don’t you?”

“Why, ye-s.  Yes, of course.  But we’ll have to wait so long.  Six months before the first interest falls due.”

“Yes—­maybe longer.”

“Longer, Aleck?  Why?  Don’t they pay half-yearly?”

“That kind of an investment—­yes; but I sha’n’t invest in that way.”

“What way, then?”

“For big returns.”

“Big.  That’s good.  Go on, Aleck.  What is it?”

“Coal.  The new mines.  Cannel.  I mean to put in ten thousand.  Ground floor.  When we organize, we’ll get three shares for one.”

“By George, but it sounds good, Aleck!  Then the shares will be worth —­how much?  And when?”

“About a year.  They’ll pay ten per cent. half yearly, and be worth thirty thousand.  I know all about it; the advertisement is in the Cincinnati paper here.”