y
gazing before her into that too-costly fire. "Osborn," she said
quietly, "I--I shouldn't think of wanting any of your fifty-five
pounds. You'll need it all; you must keep up appearances. I'll squeeze
some pocket money out of the housekeeping."

"Oh, my darling!" said Osborn gratefully, "do you really think you
could? I expect, though, there'll be a nice bit over, if you're
careful, don't you? You won't want to spend ten pounds on coal, for
example."

"I intend to manage," Marie replied vigorously.

"And I'll often be able to give you a decent present out of my
commission. I shan't let you go short."

"Osborn, I mean to help you. We'll get on splendidly. You do love me,
don't you?"

"My darling, I adore you; and I know you're the finest, bravest girl
in the world. I would like to load you with everything beautiful under
the sun, and some day I will. When I get a rise, you'll be the first
to benefit. I'll make you a real pin-money allowance. Don't I long to
do it?"

"Osborn, meanwhile, can I have this week's money?"

Osborn wrote out a cheque for two pounds ten very bravely. The
discussion had been a weighty one. As he handed it to her, he drew her
down on his knee, and, holding her tight, impressed her: "You won't
let this happen again, in any circumstances, will you, dear girl?"

"Never!" she promised fervently.

So Marie began housekeeping in the way her mother began, and her
grandmother, and those jealous tired women in the Tube; the old way of
the labouring souls, the old way scarred with crow's feet and
wrinkles, and rained on by tears.

CHAPTER VI

DISCIPLINE

Marie meant always to be trim and neat and lovely, a feast for the eye
of man. But when winter had settled upon town in a crescendo of cold,
and when you thought twice before lighting that gas-fire which you had
meant to dress by every morning, and when, too, Osborn began to resume
his normal habit of sleeping till the very last moment, why, you no
longer gave yourself--or rather, Osborn no longer gave himself--the
trouble of rising to make tea. Marie had much more to do than merely
dress, and as soon as she had opened her sleepy eyes she sprang
resolutely out into the grim cold that seemed so closely to surround
her snug bed, and fell to work. She felt as if the toil of a lifetime
lay behind her, by the time she and Osborn sat opposite to one another
at their breakfast table, and yet, too, as if the toil of a lifetime
lay before h