s unexpected in her.
"Well, haven't I come to see _you_? You're the sweetest thing I
know. And it's fine to see you so happy. As for your toast, it's
scrumptious."

"Eat it quickly. I want to show you round before I begin to cook
dinner."

"Fancy you cooking dinner!" said Julia, looking at Marie's little,
pampered hands.

Marie had the first faint thrill of the heroine.

"I have to. We can't afford a servant, you know, yet, though, when
Osborn gets his rise, perhaps we shall."

"When will that be?"

"Oh, I don't know. This year--next year--"

"Sometime--never," said Julia.

"Osborn is very clever. He is so valuable to his firm; they wouldn't
lose him for anything, so they'll have to give him a bigger salary.
Brains like Osborn's don't go cheap."

"That's awf'ly nice," Julia replied. She looked down, and stroked the
furs which she had bought for herself, and thought for a while.

"Show me the flat, there's a dear."

Julia professed raptures over all she saw; kissed Marie, and was gone.
Once more the bride, but alone this time, turned earnestly to work.

The work seemed long and arduous and hot and nerve-racking, in spite
of the amenities of the gas stove. She was so anxious to have all
perfect. Once more the table was decked, the rose shades were placed
over the candles, the sitting-room fire was lighted, the coffee
apparatus was made ready.

Marie rushed into The Frock, determined to keep up the standard they
had set themselves, just two minutes before Osborn arrived home.

He kneeled to kiss her; they embraced rapturously.

"You've had a nice day?" he was anxious to know.

"Lovely. Mother came, and Julia, and I unpacked, and went to market,
and did everything by myself--"

"I'm glad you had plenty to amuse you, dear one."

"'Amuse'?" said Marie a trifle blankly. "I've been working ever so
hard all day, really, Osborn."

"Work?" he teased, smiling. "You 'working'!" He kissed one little hand
after the other. "They couldn't," he mumbled over them. He seemed to
take woman's great tasks lightly, as if he did not realise how
serious, how enervating they were.

"They're too pretty," he said.

He began to talk, while he carved the chicken.

"It seemed a bit beastly to go back to work to-day after our good
time. However, I've all the more reason for going back to work now,
haven't I, Mrs. Kerr? You'll keep me up to the scratch, won't you?
Look! I'm carving this bird like an old family man already.