t least, and usually, thank God! a
lump of leaven as well.

The first agitating question upon marriage is that of residence.
Happily Randolph and Constance were agreed upon this point. Both were
indifferent to the city; both were lovers of the country. Randolph had
once read a certain sweet pastoral termed "Liberty and a Living," and
hardly a day had passed since the reading that he had not recalled it
and speculated as to how he could adjust it to his own life.

The fact that the writer, like himself, was a journalist; that he
broke loose from just such shackles as were wearing Randolph's
pleasure in life, made it seem more possible to the latter, and now
that he had joined hands with a woman of similar tastes, the
experiment seemed really feasible.

"It's easy enough if we'll only think so," said Randolph.

"It _looks_ easy," Constance replied more cautiously; "that's one
reason why I am afraid of it. That proves to me that we don't know
anything about it. If it were really so easy more people would try it.
We're not the only ones who love the country."

"I wonder more people don't try it," Randolph exclaimed. "When I look
around me in the train and see the care-worn, harassed faces the men
wear, I wonder they don't break loose from their drudgery and go to
living. What's the use of existing if you have to drudge continually
for your bread, and must eat even that in debt half the time?"

"_We_ may have to do without bread," said Constance, smiling.

"Then we'll eat cake, as Marie Antoinette suggested," Randolph
responded promptly.

There really was some practical preparation for the proposed country
life, although many of the plans seemed visionary enough. Randolph had
long been considering an offer from a local magazine that would enable
him to do most of his work at home, but the pay was smaller and less
certain than he could wish. However, he at last decided to resign from
the newspaper force with which he had for years been connected and to
risk taking the other position.

Now, happily, he had done good, faithful work in his present place
and was highly esteemed. Consequently, as soon as the editor of the
paper learned why he was going and what he wanted, he offered him the
editorship of the literary department in the Saturday issue, at a
smaller salary than he had been receiving, to be sure, but still a
larger and more certain one than he could earn on the magazine, and
this he accepted and went on his