But thinking yourself unfortunate, when you're not, is a pleasant
occupation.'
'How do you know?'
'I know a lot,' Henrietta said. 'But I never thought myself
unfortunate, so I wasn't.'
'Very noble,' Sales said sourly.
'No. I told you it was exciting to be poor. You're not poor enough. A
new dress,' she went on, clasping her hands; 'first of all, I had to
save up--in pennies.' She turned accusingly. 'You don't believe it.'
'It must have taken a long time.'
'It did, but not so long as you would think, because it cost so little
in the end. I saved up, and then I looked in the shop windows, and
then I talked about it for days, and then I bought the stuff. Mother
cut out the dress, and then I made it.'
'And the result was charming.'
'I thought so then. Now I know it wasn't, but at the time I was
happy.'
'Well,' he said, 'that's very interesting, but it doesn't help me.'
'But I could help you if you told me your troubles. I should know
how.'
'Telling my troubles would be a help.'
'Here I am, then.'
'What's the good?' he said. 'You'll desert me, too.'
'Not if you're good.'
'Oh, if that's the stipulation--' He stood up. His tone, which might
have been provocative, was simply bored. She knew she had been dull,
and her lip trembled with mortification.
'Why, of course!' she cried gaily, when she had mastered that
weakness. 'Aunt Caroline warned me against you this very afternoon.
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