“Why, Elizabeth, you’re not offended, are you? I didn’t mean to hurt you, sweetest! It’s only that that particular shade of blue takes all the colour out of your dear little face.”

“I—see. Which hat would you like me to wear?”

“The little brown one. Let’s burn the blue atrocity.”

“Stephen! We couldn’t possibly! It’s new!”

“Well, never mind if it is. I’m not going to let you wear it, so why hang on to it?”

“I couldn’t bum it. It would be such waste.”

“Give it to the housemaid, then.”

“Yes, I might do that,” she agreed. “It seems rather dreadful, though.”

At Rome he spoke to her of his income, and found her woefully ignorant of all money-matters. In the Arden household it was considered a breach of manners if you spoke of money as Stephen spoke of it. You did not enquire into another person’s means, nor did that person offer to expound them to you. She had no idea what was her father’s income; to speak of it would have been almost as grave a solecism as was the discussion of a prospective will. Such subjects were considered to be extremely delicate, and as such were kept hidden. She imagined that Stephen must feel as uncomfortable when he laid his affairs before her as did she. She supposed he had made some sort of declaration to her father. She knew from novels that this was usual, but she would have died sooner than have asked Lawrence what had been divulged. He did not volunteer to enlighten her; such a course was counter to his creed.

Stephen spoke of bequests and investments, and book-rights. She sat silent, with eyes downcast at first, then laid a gentle hand on his arm.

“Stephen dear, I—I don’t want to know all this.”

“Does it bore you, precious? I’m awfully sorry, but we’d better have it out. Then you’ll know how we stand.” His eyes twinkled. “If I grow stingy you’ll know whether it’s from poverty or miserliness!”

“You needn’t tell me,” she said earnestly. “Truly, you needn’t!”

He looked at her, and the truth dawned on him.

“You quaint little morsel! Why should you be embarrassed?”

Mentally she squirmed under the teasing note in his voice. She hated him to make fun of her.

“Oh—embarrassed! It’s just that I don’t think money a particularly interesting topic. Do you?”

“Not as compared to some others. Isn’t it interesting to know where your money comes from?”

“I—do you think it is?”

“I want to know what you think.”

“Well, no. At least—I’ve never thought about it.”

“What a haphazard training!” he smiled. “Didn’t your father talk to you about his business and how he makes his money?”

“Oh, no!” she said, shocked.