"What was it you went back for, Rue?" he asked.
"One thing I went back for was my money."
"Money? What money?"
"Money my grandmother left me. I was to have it when I married--six
thousand dollars."
"You mean you have it in your suitcase?" he asked, astonished.
"Yes, half of it."
"A cheque?"
"No, in hundreds."
"Bills?"
"Yes. I gave father three thousand. I kept three thousand."
"In bills," he repeated, laughing. "Is your suitcase locked?"
"Yes. I insisted on having my money in cash. So Mr. Wexall, of the
Mohawk Bank, sent a messenger with it last evening."
"But," he asked, still immensely amused, "why do you want to travel
about with three thousand dollars in bills in your suitcase?"
She flushed a little, tried to smile: "I don't know why. I never before had any money. It is--pleasant to
know I have it."
"But I'll give you all you want, Rue."
"Thank you.... I have my own, you see."
"Of course. Put it away in some bank. When you want pin money, ask
me."
She shook her head with a troubled smile.
"I couldn't ask anybody for money," she explained.
"Then you don't have to. We'll fix your allowance."
"Thank you, but I have my money, and I don't need it."
This seemed to amuse him tremendously; and even Rue laughed a little.
"You are going to take your money to Paris?" he asked.
"Yes."
"To buy things?"
"Oh, no. Just to have it with me."
His rather agreeable laughter sounded again.
"So that was what you forgot to put in your suitcase," he said. "No
wonder you went back for it."
"There was something else very important, too."
"What, darling?"
"My drawings," she explained innocently.
"Your drawings! Do you mean you've got them, too?"
"Yes. I want to take them to Paris and compare them with the pictures
I shall see there. It ought to teach me a great deal. Don't you think
so?"
"Are you crazy to study?" he asked, touched to the quick by her utter
ignorance.
"It's all I dream about. If I could work that way and support myself
and my father and mother----"
"But, Rue! Wake up! We're married, little girl. You don't have to work
to support anybody!"
"I--forgot," said the girl vaguely, her confused grey eyes resting on
his laughing, greenish ones.
Still laughing, he summoned the waiter, paid the reckoning; Ruhannah
rose as he did; they went slowly out together.
On the sidewalk beside their car stood the new chauffeur, smoking a
cigarette which he threw away without haste when he caught sight of
them. However, he touched the peak of his cap civilly, with his
forefinger.
Brandes, lighting a cigar, let his slow eyes rest on the new man for a
moment. Then he helped Rue into the tonneau, got in after her, and
thoughtfully took the wheel, conscious that there was something or
other about his new chauffeur that he did not find entirely to his
liking.