"It will really be your introduction to Baltimore society. And everybody is interested in Louis' daughter."
The two of them were in Miss Anne's room. Miss Anne, by the window, was working on a needle-point chair-back. Hildegarde was curled up on the couch, her arms about her knees.
"Aunt Anne, aren't we extravagant, Daddy and I? Aren't we spending too much money?"
"All the Carews are extravagant. I am. But I'm not in debt, if that's what you mean."
"I do mean it. I can't be comfortable. It doesn't seem quite—honest."
"It wouldn't be honest, if you weren't a Carew. But the Carews are buccaneers, doing the thing rather grandly."
Hildegarde surveyed her with puzzled eyes. "You aren't in earnest?"
"Well, there does seem to be a different code," Miss Anne admitted. "If you're a gentleman of Louis' type, the world owes you a living and all that sort of thing."
"Mother was a lady," Hildegarde said practically, "and she wasn't in debt."
"And you want to be a lady out of debt—even if Louis is a gentleman in debt?"
"I want Daddy to be out of debt, too."
"I see. But I am planning to pay for the costume, Hildegarde."
"I'd rather have you pay for other things. You really shouldn't have to pay for anything. Daddy and I ought to live on our income."
