"It is wonderful," cried Marie fervently; "it is so wonderful that a girl can hardly believe it, Julia. But there it is. Marriage is the only life. I wish you'd believe me. All the old life seems so little and light and trivial and silly--that is, all of it which I can remember, for it seems nearly swept away. Mother came in this morning--if it hadn't been for her I don't think I'd have remembered anything at all of what ever happened to me before I was Osborn's wife. It's beginning all new, you see. It's like starting on the best holiday you ever had in your life, which is going to last for ever. Try to imagine it." "Ah," said Julia sourly, "a holiday! Holidays _don't_ last for ever. You always come back to the day's work and the old round." "You need a holiday yourself," said Marie severely. "You're so bitter. You want something to sweeten you." Julia looked at Marie with a yearning softness 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."