Chapters (30)
- OH, MONEY! MONEY!
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- Contents
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- Chapter I - Exit Mr. Stanley G. Fulton
- Chapter II - Enter Mr. John Smith
- Chapter III - The Small Boy at the Keyhole
- Chapter IV - In Search of Some Dates
- Chapter V - In Miss Flora's Album
- Chapter VI - Poor Maggie
- Chapter VII - Poor Maggie and Some Others
- Chapter VIII - A Santa Claus Held Up
- Chapter IX - "Dear Cousin Stanley"
- Chapter X - What Does it Matter?
- Chapter XI - Santa Claus Arrives
- Chapter XII - The Toys Rattle Out
- Chapter XIII - The Dancing Begins
- Chapter XIV - From Me to You with Love
- Chapter XV - In Search of Rest
- Chapter XVI - The Fly in the Ointment
- Chapter XVII - An Ambassador of Cupid's
- Chapter XVIII - Just a Matter of Begging
- Chapter XIX - Still Other Flies
- Chapter XX - Frankenstein: Being a Letter from John Smith to Edward D. Norton, Attorney at Law
- Chapter XXI - Sympathies Misplaced
- Chapter XXII - With Every Jim a James
- Chapter XXIII - Reflections—Mirrored and Otherwise
- Chapter XXIV - That Miserable Money
- Chapter XXV - Exit Mr. John Smith
- Chapter XXVI - Reenter Mr. Stanley G. Fulton
"Then get her there. She's GOT to be there. And, listen. I think you'd better plan to go pretty soon after I go to South America. Then you can be there when Mr. Stanley G. Fulton arrives in Chicago and can write the news back here to Hillerton. Oh, they'll get it in the papers, in time, of course; but I think it had better come from you first. You see—the reappearance on this earth of Mr. Stanley G. Fulton is going to be of—of some moment to them, you know. There is Mrs. Hattie, for instance, who is counting on the rest of the money next November."
"Yes, I know, it will mean a good deal to them, of course. Still, I don't believe Hattie is really expecting the money. At any rate, she hasn't said anything about it very lately—perhaps because she's been too busy bemoaning the pass the present money has brought them to."
"Yes, I know," frowned Mr. Smith, with a gloomy sigh. "That miserable money!"
"No, no—I didn't mean to bring that up," apologized Miss Maggie quickly, with an apprehensive glance into his face. "And it wasn't miserable money a bit! Besides, Hattie has—has learned her lesson, I'm sure, and she'll do altogether differently in the new home. But, Mr. Smith, am I never to—to come back here? Can't we come back— ever?"
"Indeed we can—some time, by and by, when all this has blown over, and they've forgotten how Mr. Smith looks. We can come back then. Meanwhile, you can come alone—a VERY little. I shan't let you leave me very much. But I understand; you'll have to come to see your friends. Besides, there are all those playgrounds for the babies and cleaner milk for the streets, and—"
"Cleaner milk for the streets, indeed!"
"Eh? What? Oh, yes, it WAS the milk for the babies, wasn't it?" he teased. "Well, however that may be you'll have to come back to superintend all those things you've been wanting to do so long. But"— his face grew a little wistful—"you don't want to spend too much time here. You know—Chicago has a few babies that need cleaner milk."
"Yes, I know, I know!" Her face grew softly luminous as it had grown earlier in the afternoon.
"So you can bestow some of your charity there; and—"