Lizzie hurtled into the hall and brought back her coat, fumbling in the

pocket.

"Yes, here 'tis ma! Wanta see the figgers? You never had a whole thousand

dollars in the bank t'woncet yerself, did ya?"

Mrs. Brady put on her spectacles and reached for the book, while Lizzie's

mother got up and came behind her mother's chair to look over at the magic

figures. Lizzie stooped for the little white note that had fluttered to

her feet as she opened the book, but she had little interest to see what

it said. She was more intent upon the new bank book.

It was Grandmother Brady that discovered it: "Why, Lizzie! It ain't one thousand, it's five thousand, the book

says! You don't 'spose she's made a mistake, do you?"

Lizzie seized the book and gazed, her jaw dropping open in amaze. "Let me

have it!" demanded Lizzie's mother, reaching for the book.

"Where's yer note, Lizzie, mebbe it'll explain," said the excited

Grandmother.

Lizzie recovered the note which again had fluttered to the floor in the

confusion and opening it began to read: "Dear Lizzie," it read "I've made it five thousand so you will have some over for

furnishing your home, and if you still think you want the little

bungalow out on the Pike you will find the deed at my lawyer's,

all made out in your name. It's my wedding gift to you, so you

can go to work and buy your furniture at once, and not wait till

Dan gets a raise. And here's wishing you a great deal of

happiness, "Your loving cousin,

ELIZABETH."

"There!" said Grandmother Brady sitting back with satisfaction and holding

her hands composedly, "Whadd' I tell ya?"

"Mercy!" said Lizzie's mother, "Let me see that note! The idea of her

giving all that money when she didn't have to!"

But Lizzie's face was a picture of joy. For once she lost her hard little

worldly screwed-up expression and was wreathed in smiles of genuine

eagerness: "Oh Boy!" she exclaimed delightedly, dancing around the room, "Now we

can have a victrola, an' a player-piano, and Dan'll get a Ford, one o'

those limousine-kind! Won't I be some swell? What'll the girls at the

store think now?"

"H'm! You'd much better get a washing machine and a 'lectric iron!"

grumbled Grandmother Brady practically.

"Well, all I got to say about it is, she was an awful fool to trust you

with so much money," said Lizzie's mother discontentedly, albeit with a

pleased pride as she watched her giddy daughter fling on hat and coat to

go down and tell Dan.

"I sh'll work in the store fer the rest of the week, jest to 'commodate

'em," she announced putting her head back in the door as she went out,

"but not a day longer. I got a lot t'do. Say, won't I be some lady in the

five-an'-ten the rest o' the week? Oh Boy! I'll tell the world!"




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