Making money in those days was so ridiculously easy! The trouble was to
know how to spend it. One evening when I got home I told Maude I had a
surprise for her.
"A surprise?" she asked, looking up from a little pink smock she was
making for Chickabiddy.
"I've bought that lot on Grant Avenue, next to the Ogilvys'."
She dropped her sewing, and stared at me.
"Aren't you pleased?" I asked. "At last we are going to have a house of
our very own. What's the matter?"
"I can't bear the thought of leaving here. I'm so used to it. I've grown
to love it. It's part of me."
"But," I exclaimed, a little exasperated, "you didn't expect to live here
always, did you? The house has been too small for us for years. I thought
you'd be delighted." (This was not strictly true, for I had rather
expected some such action on her part.) "Most women would. Of course, if
it's going to make such a difference to you as that, I'll sell the lot.
That won't be difficult."
I got up, and started to go into my study. She half rose, and her sewing
fell to the floor.
"Oh, why are we always having misunderstandings? Do sit down a minute,
Hugh. Don't think I'm not appreciative," she pleaded. "It was--such a
shock."