arry."

"Harry answers very well, thank you."

"Habit, nothing else," Edith insisted. "He's as much a part of the
family furniture as the grand piano. But that's what gives me hope: if
you and so many other women can endure it, why can't I?"

"There are hundreds of men; why pick on Mr. Cosden?"

"I had a long, experimental conversation with him last night while you
and Mr. Huntington were holding your revival meeting on the pier, and I
really think he might do. Tell me what you know about him."

"Only what Harry has told me. They have had some business dealings
together, and Harry says he has made a lot of money. The fact that Monty
Huntington is his friend is his best recommendation."

"Mr. Huntington has a good social position in Boston, hasn't he?"

"Good heavens, yes! I believe one of his ancestors discovered Beacon
Street, or something of that kind; but that doesn't imply that Mr.
Cosden has the same position. A bachelor may have friends at his clubs
whom he does not necessarily bring into his social circle,--especially
in Boston."

"Mr. Cosden is frightfully commercial," Edith meditated aloud.

"So are you," Marian broke in laughing.

"I don't mind that," Edith continued, "so long as he has a human side.
I believe I could serve as a counter-irritant to keep him from remaining
merely a machine.

"You mustn't take away his capacity as provider," Marian teased her; "he
would need a fairly stiff income to sail the good ship 'Edith Stevens.'"

"With everything I want costing more and everything I own yielding less,
that is of vital importance, of course. But I really believe
Cossie--Connie--whatever they call him, might do."

"Well, it's fine to have that all settled, my dear," Marian agreed,
still showing her amusement. "Now, when are you going to break the news
to him?"

"Ah! that's another question!" Edith answered, entirely unabashed.
"Couldn't you find out from Mr. Huntington something about his hobbies
and his antipathies?"

"Of course; unless you select some one else in the mean time. Perhaps
we'd better wait until after luncheon."

"Oh, I'm serious," Edith protested,--"provided of course that he
measures up all right. The more I think it over the more serious I
become. Ricky was particularly trying this morning; I'm aghast at the
amount of last month's bills, and all in all it makes me realize the
importance of not letting one's age become an indiscretion. Even you
referred to my passing yea