By each post Sir Nigel received numerous bills.  Sometimes letters accompanied them, and once or twice respectful but firm male persons brought them by hand and demanded interviews which irritated Sir Nigel extremely.  Given time to arrange matters with Rosalie, to train her to some sense of her duty, he believed that the “acct. rendered” could be wiped off, but he saw he must have time.  She was such a little fool.  Again and again he was furious at the fate which had forced him to take her.

The truth was that Rosalie knew nothing whatever about unpaid bills.  Reuben Vanderpoel’s daughters had never encountered an indignant tradesman in their lives.  When they went into “stores” they were received with unfeigned rapture.  Everything was dragged forth to be displayed to them, attendants waited to leap forth to supply their smallest behest.  They knew no other phase of existence than the one in which one could buy anything one wanted and pay any price demanded for it.

Consequently Rosalie did not recognise signs which would have been obviously recognisable by the initiated.  If Sir Nigel Anstruthers had been a nice young fellow who had loved her, and he had been honest enough to make a clean breast of his difficulties, she would have thrown herself into his arms and implored him effusively to make use of all her available funds, and if the supply had been insufficient, would have immediately written to her father for further donations, knowing that her appeal would be responded to at once.  But Sir Nigel Anstruthers cherished no sentiment for any other individual than himself, and he had no intention of explaining that his mere vanity had caused him to mislead her, that his rank and estate counted for nothing and that he was in fact a pauper loaded with dishonest debts.  He wanted money, but he wanted it to be given to him as if he conferred a favour by receiving it.  It must be transferred to him as though it were his by right.  What did a man marry for?  Therefore his wife’s unconsciousness that she was inflicting outrage upon him by her mere mental attitude filled his being with slowly rising gall.

Poor Rosalie went joyfully forth shopping after the manner of all newly arrived Americans.  She bought new toilettes and gewgaws and presents for her friends and relations in New York, and each package which was delivered at the hotel added to Sir Nigel’s rage.

That the little blockhead should be allowed to do what she liked with her money and that he should not be able to forbid her!  This he said to himself at intervals of five minutes through the day—­which led to another small episode.

“You are spending a great deal of money,” he said one morning in his condemnatory manner.  Rosalie looked up from the lace flounce which had just been delivered and gave the little nervous laugh, which was becoming entirely uncertain of propitiating.

“Am I?” she answered.  “They say all Americans spend a good deal.”