"Why, bless your heart, Amarilly! I feel really domesticated. You look as natty as a new penny, and the little white cap is great on your hair. I see you have remembered how to fix it." "Thank you, Mr. Derry, but please sit down while your coffee is hot." "'Deed I will, and if it tastes as good as it smells, I shall raise your remuneration." He pronounced the coffee delicious, the grapefruit fixed to his liking, the toast crisp, and the eggs boiled just to the right consistency. "And have you had breakfast, Amarilly?" "Yes, Mr. Derry, at half past five." "Jiminy! you should be ready for another. Now talk to me while I eat. Tell me about your reverend friend who was so daffy on the subject of pockets. Has he located any yet?" Amarilly looked troubled. "Miss King said I wa'n't to talk to you while I was serving." "Tell Miss King with Mr. Phillips' compliments that artists are not conventional, and that you and I are not in the relation to each other of master and maid. We are good friends, and quite _en famille_. You are such a fine cook, I think I shall have you serve me luncheon at one o'clock. Can you?" "Oh, yes; I should love to, Mr. Derry." "I'll stock the larder, then. No; I can't be bothered, and I'd feel too much like a family man if I went about marketing. I'll give you _carte blanche_ to order what you will." "What's that, Mr. Derry?" "Good! We mustn't neglect your education. I am glad you asked me. You might have always supposed it a breakfast-food." He proceeded to explain elaborately what the words meant, and then asked her if she had remembered her previous lesson. "Yes; ain't you--goin'--" "Stop right there. Your next word to be eliminated is 'ain't.' You must say 'aren't' or 'isn't.' And you must remember to put 'g' on the end of every word ending in 'ing.' Don't let me hear you say 'goin', again, I'll teach you one new word every day now. You see the measure of a maid is her pure English." Amarilly looked distressed. "What's the matter, Amarilly? Don't you want to learn to speak properly?" "Yes, I do, Mr. Derry; but Miss King--she don't want me to speak diff'rent. She likes to hear me talk ignorant, and she said she was afeard you'd make me brom--" "Brom?" he repeated. "There was some more to it, but I fergit." "Bromidic," he said triumphantly, after an instant's pondering. "You can never under any circumstances be that, and I shall develop your imagination and artistic temperament at the same time. Miss King is selfish to wish to keep you from cultivating yourself for the purpose of furnishing her entertainment. By the way, I am to meet her to-night at a dinner, and I think we shall have a mutual subject for conversation. I must get to work, now. Clear away the dishes. And finish the rest of this toast and coffee. It would be wicked to waste it." Amarilly substituted a work apron for the little white covering, and was soon engaged in "redding."