“Well—” He regarded it thoughtfully. “If you want it... But what could you do with—a Chinese coat?” “That’s what I don’t know.” She was very meek. “I just seemed to think—I wanted it.” “You couldn’t wear it to church?” “No-o—” She hesitated. “I could wear it to the opera—if we should go.” He laughed out. “And to the circus!” He came around and touched her hair where the light fell on it. “How much did it cost—this Chinese thingumabob?” “Fifty dollars—” It came out slowly—and he whistled softly between his teeth. “For the opera!” he said. She threw out her hands. “Of course I didn’t mean it! But you asked me—what I was thinking about——” “Of course I did!” He was prompt. “And I’ll see what we have—to spare.” He moved toward the door. “Sure you couldn’t use it for anything else”—he looked back over his shoulder—“except the opera?” “Well—I could make a kimono of it.” She glanced at him half-pleadingly—then she laughed out. “I don’t want the old thing! I don’t know why I told you!” III If she thought of the coat through the day, there was no sign of it in her face. She went about her work with busy, preoccupied look. She did the dishes, and dusted and made beds and went to market; and after luncheon, which she had by herself on the porch, she lay down, a little while, watching the streaks of light that came through the blind-slats and fell across the matting, and almost reached to the bed... and when she saw them again, they were lying along the pillow close to her—and it was five o’clock. She sprang up with a little exclamation and hurried to the kitchen. But, after all, Richard was late, and everything was ready when he came. He cast a happy look about the room, “Nice home!” he said. She smiled and set the dinner on the table. “You were late.” “Well, rather! It’s been a great day—” He looked at her thoughtfully across the table, and took up the carving-knife and tested it gently on his thumb. “Martin came in—about the lot, next door!” She glanced quickly at him. “What did he say?” “Said he’s ready—to sell.” They were both silent. Presently she gave a little sigh. “Well, of course we can’t—But it’s too bad!” He looked at her, smiling. “That’s the queer thing! It’s just possible——” “What do you mean?” “Well—I’d been looking things over—about your Chinese coat, you know——” “Oh-h!” Her glance held his. He nodded. “I’d made up my mind to get it for you—if it took our last “But I told you—” He held up a hand. “And I’d just figured out how I could do it—when Martin came in and offered the lot for three hundred—fifty dollars down.” Her eyes were on his face. “Of course, yesterday, or day before, I should have said—we couldn’t do it.... But there was the money—in my hand, practically.” “Did you give it to him?” She leaned forward, a little breathless. He looked at her. “Do you think I did?” “Why—I—don’t know.”