“Very well,” said father, and got his Check Book.  “That is $83.33 1/3 cents a month.  Make it thirty four cents.  But no bills, Barbara.”

“And no extras,” my mother observed, in a stern tone.

“Candy, tennis balls and matinee tickets?” I asked.

“All included,” said father.  “And Church collection also, and ice cream and taxicabs and Xmas gifts.”

Although pretending to consider it small, I realy felt that it was a large amount, and I was filled with joy when father ordered a Check Book for me with my name on each Check.  Ah, me!  How happy I was!

I was two months younger then and possably childish in some ways.  For I remember that in my exhiliration I called up Jane Raleigh the moment she got home.  She came over, and I showed her the book.

“Bab!” she said.  “A thousand dollars!  Why, it is wealth.”

“It’s not princly,” I observed.  “But it will do, Jane.”

We then went out and took a walk, and I treated her to a Facial Masage, having one myself at the same time, having never been able to aford it before.

“It’s Heavenley, Bab,” Jane observed to me, through a hot towle.  “If I were you I should have one daily.  Because after all, what are features if the skin is poor?”

We also had manacures, and as the young person was very nice, I gave her a dollar.  As I remarked to Jane, it had taken all the lines out of my face, due to the Spring Term and examinations.  And as I put on my hat, I could see that it had done somthing else.  For the first time my face showed Character.  I looked mature, if not, indeed, even more.

I paid by a Check, although they did not care about taking it, prefering cash.  But on calling up the Bank accepted it, and also another check for cold cream, and a fancy comb.

I had, as I have stated, just returned from my Institution of Learning, and now, as Jane and I proceded to a tea place I had often viewed with hungry eyes but no money to spend, it being expencive, I suddenly said: 

“Jane, do you ever think how ungrateful we are to those who cherish us through the school year and who, although stern at times, are realy our Best Friends?”

“Cherish us!” said Jane.  “I haven’t noticed any cherishing.  They tolarate me, and hardly that.”

“I fear you are pessamistic,” I said, reproving her but mildly, for Jane’s school is well known to be harsh and uncompromizing.  “However, my own feelings to my Instructers are diferent and quite friendly, especialy at a distance.  I shall send them flowers.”

It was rather awful, however, after I had got inside the shop, to find that violets, which I had set my heart on as being the school flour, were five dollars a hundred.  Also there were more teachers than I had considered, some of them making but small impression on account of mildness.

There were eight.

“Jane!” I said, in desparation.  “Eight without the housekeeper!  And she must be remembered because if not she will be most unpleasant next fall, and swipe my chaffing dish.  Forty five dollars is a lot of Money.”