The Avalanche - Page 3/95

But she would learn! She would learn! She would ask her mother that very

day to initiate her into the fascinating secrets of personal economies,

teach her how to portion out her quarterly allowance between her

wardrobe, club dues, charities, even her private automobile.

This last heroic suggestion was her own, and although her husband

protested he finally agreed; it was well she should learn just what it

cost to be a woman of fashion in San Francisco, and the allowance was

very generous. His old steward, Mannings, ran the household, although as

he went through the form of laying the bills before his little mistress

on the third of every month, she knew that the upkeep of the San

Francisco house and the Burlingame villa ran into a small fortune a year.

"It is not that I am threatened with financial disaster," Ruyler had said

to her. "But San Francisco has not recovered yet, and it is impossible to

say just when she will recover. I want to be absolutely sure of my

expenditures."

She had promised vehemently, and, as far as he knew, she had kept her

promise. He had received no more bills, and it was obvious that her

haughty chauffeur was paid on schedule time, until, seized with another

economical spasm, she sold her car and bought a small electric which she

could drive herself.

Ruyler, little as he liked his mother-in-law, was intensely grateful to

her for the dexterity with which she had adjusted Helene's mind to the

new condition. She even taught her how to keep books in an elemental way

and balanced them herself on the first of every month. As Helene Ruyler

had a mind as quick and supple as it was cultivated in les graces, she

soon ceased to feel the chafing of her new harness, although she did

squander the sum she had reserved for three months mere pocket money upon

a hat; which was sent to the house by her wily milliner on the first day

of the second quarter. She confessed this with tears, and her husband,

who thought her feminine passion for hats adorable, dried her tears and

took her to the opening night of a new play. But he did not furnish the

pathetic little gold mesh bag, and as he made her promise not to borrow,

she did not treat her friends to tea or ices at any of the fashionable

rendezvous for a month. Then her native French thrift came to her aid and

she sold a superfluous gold purse, a wedding present, to an envious

friend at a handsome bargain.