“You want to know what they promised me?” he asked, looking up at his sister with an unpleasant laugh.  She poured a few drops of cologne onto a lump of sugar, placed it between her lips, and nodded: 

“They did promise you something—­didn’t they?”

“Oh, certainly.  They promised to make it hot for me if I ever again borrowed money on notes.”

“Scott! did you do that?”

“Give my note?  Certainly.  I needed money—­I’ve told old tabby Tappan so again and again.  In a year I’ll have all the money I need—­so what’s the harm if I borrow a little and promise to pay when I’m of age?”

Geraldine considered a moment:  “It’s curious,” she reflected, “but do you know, Scott, I never thought of doing that.  It never occurred to me to do it!  Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Because,” said her brother with an embarrassed laugh, “it’s not exactly a proper thing to do, I believe.  Anyway, they raised a terrible row about it.  Probably that’s why they have at last given me a decent quarterly allowance; they think it’s safer, I suppose—­and they’re right.  The stingy old fossils.”

The boyish boast, the veiled hint of revolt and reprisal vaguely disturbed Geraldine’s sense of justice.

“After all,” she said, “they have meant to be kind.  They didn’t know how, that’s all.  And, Scott, do let us try to be better now.  I’m ashamed of my rudeness to them.  And I’m going to be very, very good to Kathleen and not do one single thing to make her unhappy or even to bother Mr. Tappan....  And, oh, Scott! my silks and laces! my darling clothes!  All is coming true!  Do you hear?  And, Scott!  Naida and Duane are back and I’m dying to see them.  Duane is twenty-three, think of it!”

She seized him and spun him around.

“If you don’t hug me and tell me you’re fond of me, I shall go mad.  Tell me you’re fond of me, Scott!  You do love me, don’t you?”

He kissed his sister with preoccupied toleration:  “Whew!” he said, “your breath reeks of cologne!

“As for me,” he added, half sullenly, “I’m going to have a few things I want, now....  And do a few things, too.”

But what these things were he did not specify.  Nor did Geraldine have time to speculate, so occupied was she now with preparations for the wonderful winter which was to come true at last—­which was already beginning to come true with exciting visits to that magic country of brilliant show-windows which, like an enchanted city by itself, sparkles from Madison Square to the Plaza between Fourth Avenue and Broadway.

* * * * *

Into this sparkling metropolitan zone she hastened with Kathleen; all day long, week after week, she flitted from shop to shop, never satisfied, always eager to see, to explore.  Yet two things Kathleen noticed:  Geraldine seemed perfectly happy and contented to view the glitter of vanity fair without thought of acquiring its treasures for herself; and, when reminded that she was there to buy, she appeared to be utterly ignorant of the value of money, though a childhood without it was supposed to have taught her its rarity and preciousness.