bag pudding the king did make,
And stuffed it well with plums,
And in it put great hunks of fat,
As big as my two thumbs----"

"Think of the effect of those hunks of fat," she explained amid their
roars of laughter, "on my dieted mind."

"I hate to think of things to eat," Eve said. "And I can't imagine myself
cooking--in a kitchen."

"Where else would you cook?" Marie-Louise demanded practically. "I'd like
it. I went once with my nurse to her mother's house, and she was cooking
ham and frying eggs and we sat down to a table with a red cloth and had
the ham and eggs with great slices of bread and strong tea. My nurse let
me eat all I wanted, because her mother said it wouldn't hurt me, and it
didn't. But my mother never knew. And always after that I liked to think
of Lucy's mother and that warm nice kitchen, and the plump, pleasant
woman and the ham and eggs and tea."

She was very serious, but they roared again. She was so far away from
anything that was homely and housewifely, with her red hair peaked up to
a high knot, her thick white coat with its black animal skin enveloping
her shoulders, the gleam of silver slippers.

"Dicky," Eve said, "I hope you are not expecting me to cook in Arcadia."

"I don't expect anything."

"Every man expects something," Winifred interposed; "subconsciously he
wants a hearth-woman. That's the primitive."

"I don't want a hearth-woman," Pip announced.

Dutton Ames chuckled. "You're a stone-age man, Meade. You'd like to woo
with a club, and carry the day's kill to the woman in your tent."

A quick fire lighted Pip's eyes. "Jove, it wouldn't be bad, would it?
What do you think, Eve?"

"I like your yacht better, and your chef and your alligator pears, and
caviar."

An hour later Eve and Richard were alone on deck. The others had gone
down. The lovers had preferred the moonlight.

"Eve, old lady," Richard said, "you know that even with Austin's help I'm
not going to be a Croesus. There won't be yachts--and chefs--and
alligator pears."

"Jealous, Dicky?"

"No. But you've always had these things, Eve."

"I shall still have them. Aunt Maude won't let us suffer. She's a good
old soul."

"Do you think I shall care to partake of Aunt Maude's bounty?"

"Perhaps not. But I am not so stiff-necked. Oh, Ducky Dick, do you think
that I am going to let you keep on being poor and priggish and
steady-minded?"

"Am I that, Eve?"

"You know you are."

Her laughi