I adds. "Hey, Westy! Come nourish yourself."

Maybe you remember that pair? Sappy Westlake, anyway. He's the noble,
fair-haired youth that for a long time Auntie had all picked out as the
chosen one for Vee, and he hung around constant until one lucky day Vee
had this Doris Ull come for a visit.

Kind of a pouty, peevish queen, Doris was, you know. Spoiled at home,
and the job finished at one of these flossy girls' boardin'-schools
where they get a full course in court etiquette and learn to call the
hired girl Smith quite haughty.

But she looked good to Westy, and, what with the help Vee and I gave
'em, they made a match of it. Months ago that must 'a' been, nearly a
year. So I signals a fray-juggler to pull up more chairs, and we has
quite a reunion.

Seems they'd been on a long honeymoon trip: done the whole Pacific
coast, stopped off a while at Banff, and worked hack home through
Quebec and the White Mountains. Think of all the carfares and tips to
bell-hops that means! He don't have to worry, though. Income is
Westy's middle name. All he knows about it is that there's a trust
company downtown somewheres that handles the estate and wishes on him
quarterly a lot more'n he knows how to spend. Beastly bore!

"What a wonderful time you two must have had!" says Vee.

Doris shrugs her shoulders.

"Sightseeing always gives me a headache," says she. "And in the
Canadian Rockies we nearly froze. I was glad to see New York again.
But one tires of hotel life. Thank goodness, our house is ready at
last. We moved in a week ago."

"Oh!" says Vee. "Then you're housekeeping?"

Doris nods. "It's quite thrilling," says she. "At ten-thirty every
morning I have the butler bring me Cook's list. Then I 'phone for the
things myself. That is, I've just begun. Let me see, didn't I put in
to-day's order in my--yes, here it is." And she fishes a piece of
paper out of a platinum mesh bag. "Think of our needing all that--just
Harold and me," she goes on.

"I should say so," says Vee, startin' to read over the items. "'Sugar,
two pounds; tea, two pounds--'"

"Cook leaves the amounts to me," explains Doris; "so I just order two
pounds of everything."

"Oh!" says Vee, readin' on. "'Butter, two pounds; eggs, two--' Do
they sell eggs that way, Doris?"

"Don't they?" asks Doris. "I'm sure I don't know."

"'Coffee, two pounds,'" continues Vee. "'Yeast cakes, two pounds--'
Why, wouldn't that be a lot of y