With a becoming mantling of rose-pink in her cheeks, she went singing about her “drawing” rooms, altering the angle of chairs and sofas, and the arrangement of bric-a-brac, already viewing her appointments through Kitty’s eye-glasses. Her thoughts were running upon the projected dinner party. She was the proud owner of a black velvet gown with a trained skirt, and a V-shaped front, and of dainty laces wherewith to fill the triangle. She had a diamond pin and earrings—wedding gifts from the wealthy aunt for whom she was named. The same generous relative had bestowed upon her, at different holiday seasons, the rugs and pictures that adorned her house. Aunt Susan might always be depended upon to do the handsome thing, and she was fond of this niece and her “steady” husband. The home of Susie’s girlhood had been more plainly furnished, as Kitty had known and must recollect. It was natural that the elegant grace characterizing Mrs. Cornell’s abode should mislead the shrewd observer in the estimate of the cashier’s income. Without surmising what had suggested the remark, or that it was a “feeler,” Mrs. Cornell smiled, yet a little uneasily, in recalling it. “Kitty is so used to hearing of big sums that her ideas are vague on the subject of salaries,” meditated the better informed wife. “She doesn’t dream how handsomely people can live on six thousand dollars. Or that we got along on one-half that much in Brooklyn and laid aside something yearly. It is none of my business to set her right. Arthur doesn’t care to have his money affairs discussed.” It did not occur to her as a possibility that from the pardonable disingenuousness any serious trouble could ever arise, yet she knew what Arthur would say. She heard, in imagination, his warning: “Never sail under false colors, Susie!” Therefore, in her animated description of call and conversation, she omitted all mention of Kitty’s tentative allusion to their income. Not knowing his wife’s old comrade, he might think her prying and impertinent in touching upon such a subject at all. Poor, dear Kitty! there were disadvantages in being so impetuously frank. A clear-headed cool reasoner like Arthur, for instance, was almost sure to misread her.