“Both,” acknowledged Pauline quickly. “So many things are catching these days, we don’t like to come in contact with--dirt.” And her meaning smile deepened as she saw Mrs. Fordyce flinch; she had scored at last. “We all have our idiosyncrasies, dear Mrs. Fordyce; good-bye. Don’t trouble to come downstairs with me, Janet, I can find my way out alone.” “Of course I’m coming with you.” Janet followed her friend out of the room, leaving her mother sitting in her chair in a brown study. She was aroused almost immediately by Janet’s re-entrance. “What an odious creature!” she shivered. “Upon my word, Janet, what’s the world coming to? Are there no ladies any more?” “Now don’t be old-fashioned,” Janet threw herself down pettishly on the sofa. “Can you give me some money, mumsie?” “What has become of your father’s Christmas check?” “Spent,” laconically. “I can’t help it, mumsie; money just evaporates in this old town. I just want to buy a--a--new bracelet,” glancing down deprecatingly at her bare wrist. “You have a careless hand, Janet,” said her mother reprovingly. “However, I cannot have you want for anything. Will a check for fifty dollars do?” “Oh, yes; thank you, darling,” beaming gratefully upon her mother. “But instead of a check, could you give me----” she stopped as some one rapped on the door. In response to Mrs. Fordyce’s bidding, Marjorie stepped into the room. “Am I late?” she asked, laying a bundle of papers on the table beside Mrs. Fordyce. “Twenty-five minutes ahead of luncheon,” answered Janet shortly. “What have you here, Marjorie?” Mrs. Fordyce put her hand on the papers. “Receipted bills,” Marjorie drew up her chair and sorted the papers carefully. “The butcher, the baker, and the candlestick maker,” quoted Mrs. Fordyce, busily inspecting Marjorie. She saw her through new eyes, the eyes of a mother judging a possible daughter-in-law. Suddenly, she pressed her fingers against her eyes; the lids were wet with tears. “If I were you, I would stop dealing with Jackson,” announced Marjorie, finding the particular bill she was searching for. “He calmly sent in an unitemized account, calling for seventy-five dollars, and when I insisted on going over his books, we found he had overcharged you eighteen dollars. I gave him the check Mr. Fordyce had made out for the larger sum on condition that he refund me the eighteen dollars. Here it is,” tumbling the money out on the table. “You won’t be popular with the cook, Marjorie, if you have interfered with her rake-off,” snapped Janet. “What’s a few dollars to father?” “Janet!” Mrs. Fordyce spoke in a tone that Marjorie had never heard before, and her daughter on but one other occasion. “You forget yourself strangely this morning; apologize at once to Marjorie for your unnecessary remark.” “I meant no offense to Marjorie,” protested Janet. “I merely intended to say it was silly of her to interfere after things have been bought and paid for.”