"I know Uncle adored Mother," said Alma, kicking through a pile of wet leaves. "He gave her those lovely Italian earrings, which I'm to have when I'm eighteen. And all that wonderful Venetian lace, which the first one of us to be married is going to have for her wedding gown."
"Yes. Well, then--then after Father and Mother were married things didn't go so very well. Mother was just a girl--just my age, you know, only she was pretty, like you, and, I suppose, a little extravagant. At least, they weren't able to make ends meet very well, although Daddy made a good income--and, anyhow, Uncle Thomas would have thought her extravagant. He didn't see why it was necessary for her to send for her clothes to Paris, and why Father was always worried about bills, when he should have been able to live well within his income. Anyway, Father wasn't able to save a cent, and one day Uncle Thomas came to him and said that he had a very good opportunity for him to invest his savings, so that they would draw a much better income than what they were giving. The only trouble was that Father didn't have any savings. Then Uncle became furious; he asked Father and Mother what kind of future they thought they were laying up for us, and he scolded Mother terribly for not helping Father. He quoted the Bible about women being the helpmeet of their husbands, and about the parents eating sour grapes and setting the children's teeth on edge. He said that they were taking the path to ruin, and that Father could expect no help from him unless he and Mother economized. But you see, poor Mother always considered Paris dresses and jewellery and expensive dainties the necessities and not just the luxuries of life. I don't suppose she really understood how to economize at all. And anyway, things got worse instead of better. Then, one year, Daddy lost an awful lot of money trying to make some quickly so that he could get his debts cleared up, and start fresh. Instead, he only got in deeper. And--and then he fell ill. And you remember, Alma, when poor Father was dying, Uncle came. And he cried and cried. But when Mother came into the room, he got up and went out, and shut the door behind him. Then he shut the gates of his house against us, too. I think he feels that we--we girls must learn to look at life seriously, to work out our own futures--so that poverty will teach us to be wiser than--than poor, darling little Mother----" Nancy's voice had sunk, as if she were talking to herself, so that Alma barely heard the last words. She was thinking of Alma, wondering how she could teach her luxury-loving little sister to see life practically, without taking away the joy of it from her.