is reception, as a neat little Monegasque maid told him
that Madame was _chez elle_. But he need not have been anxious. As the
maid announced his name with a pronunciation all her own, a pretty girl
sprang up from a chintz-covered window seat, in a drawing-room which in
an instant took Carleton across the sea to his native land.

The girl had been sitting on one foot, and as she jumped up quickly she
stumbled a little, laughing.

"Oh, Dick, you nice thing!" she exclaimed. "I _am_ glad to see you. But
my foot's asleep. Goodness, what needles and pins!"

She stamped about on the polished floor, with two small feet in silk
stockings and high-heeled, gold-buckled slippers, a novel tucked under
her arm, and one hand clasping her cousin's.

"Well," he said, "if any creature could be less like a parson's wife
than you, madam, I'd like to see it."

"I know I'm the exact opposite of what one ought to be," she laughed,
"and it almost makes me feel not legally married. But don't--don't,
please, if you love me, use that awful word 'parson' again. I can't
stand it. Don't you think it sounds just like the crackle of cold,
overdone toast?"

"Can't say I ever thought about it," said Carleton.

"Well, I have, constantly. It was a long time before I could make up my
mind to say 'yes' to St. George, on account of that word."

"Is St. George his name?" Dick asked.

"It's my name for him. The 'saint' part's my private property. But he is
a saint, if ever there was one: and a good thing too, as he's got a
dragon on the hearth to tame; but a _little_ inconvenient sometimes for
the poor dragon. Oh, Dick, you've no idea how good and pure-minded and
absolutely Alpine and on the heights he is. Often I expect to pick
edelweiss in his back hair."

Carlton gave one of his sudden, boyish laughs. "That sounds like you.
How did you come to marry such a chap?"

"I was so horribly afraid some other girl would get him, if I left him
lying about. But do let's sit down. My foot's wide awake again now."

They sat on the cushioned window seat and smiled into each other's eyes.

"How brown you are!" she exclaimed.

"How pretty you are!" he retorted.

And it was true. She was very pretty, a girlish creature, thin and eager
looking, with large tobacco-brown eyes full of a humorous, observant
interest in everything. Her skin was dark and smooth as satin. Even her
long throat and nervous hands, and the slim, lace-covered arms, were of
the same sa