Nellie smiled to herself. Keep looking, dearie. They don’t come with price tags here.

It was only money, after all. And what was money?

Nellie signed, remembering what her father had told her about money when she was a girl. Those who don’t have enough of it are only aware of what it can buy them. When you finally have enough of it you become aware—acutely aware—of all the things it can’t buy… the really important things… like youth, health, love, peace of mind.

She felt her lips quiver and tightened them into a firm line. All the Westphalen fortune could not bring her dear John back to life, nor bring Grace back from wherever she was.

Nellie glanced to her right on the sofa to where Victoria sat next to her, reading a collection of Garfield cartoons. The child had been unusually quiet, almost withdrawn since the arrival of the chocolates this morning. She hoped she hadn’t been too badly hurt. Nellie put her arm around her and squeezed. Victoria rewarded her with a smile.

Dear, dear, Victoria. How did Richard ever father you?

The thought of her nephew brought a bitter taste into her mouth. Richard Westphalen was living proof of what a curse wealth can be. Look what inheriting control of his father’s share of the fortune at such a young age had done to him. He might have been a different person—a decent person—if her brother Teddy had lived longer.

Money! Sometimes she almost wished—

The saleswoman was speaking to Gia: “Did you see anything else you’d like to try on?”

Gia laughed. “About a hundred, but this is fine.” She turned to Nellie. “What do you think?”

Nellie studied her, delighted with the choice. The dress was perfect. The lines were clean, the color went well with her blond hair, and the silk clung everywhere it was supposed to.

“You’ll be the toast of the diplomats.”

“That’s a classic, my dear,” the saleswoman said.

And it was. If Gia kept to her current perfect size six, she could probably wear this dress ten years from now and still look good. Which would probably suit Gia just fine. To Nellie’s mind, Gia’s taste in clothing left a lot to be desired. She wished Gia would dress more fashionably. She had a good figure—enough bust and the long waist and long legs that dress designers dream about. She should have designer clothes.

“Yes,” Gia said to the mirror. “This is the one.”

The dress needed no alterations, so it was boxed up and Gia walked out with it under her arm. She hailed a cab for them on Third Avenue.

“I want to ask you something,” Gia said sotto voce as they rode back to Sutton Square. “It’s been bothering me for two days now. It’s about the… inheritance you’re leaving Vicky; you mentioned something about it Thursday.”

Nellie was startled for a moment. Had she spoken of the terms of her will? Yes… yes, she had. Her mind was so foggy lately.