of
Ste. Genevieve into an old college garden.

"I make Sam get the coffee mornings, and I do the _dejeuner_; then an
old woman comes in to clean us up and cook dinner, if we don't go out.
Sam is rather given to the student cafes."

Mrs. Reddon moved dexterously within the confined limits of the closet
kitchen and continued to describe her household. "You see we pay only
thirty dollars a month for this place, and I cover the housekeeping
bills with another thirty or a little more."

"Heavens! How can you do it?" Milly gasped.

Their pension was over that amount apiece.

"It's cheaper than anything at home, and lots more fun!"

Presently Sam Reddon came whistling upstairs. He stopped in histrionic
surprise at sight of Milly.

"Not really, Milady! How did you find your way?"

"By accident."

"Ma," he sang out to his wife, "you aren't going to try one of your
historic stews on Mrs. Bragdon--our one fashionable visitor of the
season? Don't you think we had better make an occasion of this and
adjourn to Foyot's?"

"No," his wife replied firmly, "you've had too many 'occasions' this
month. One of my _dejeuners_ won't hurt Mrs. Bragdon or you either."

"Well," he submitted dolefully, "she can't drink that red ink you
mistakenly bought for wine, my dear.... I'll just fetch a bottle of
something drinkable."

"Hurry then! _Dejeuner_ is quite ready."

"You see," she observed placidly as Reddon departed, "he takes every
excuse to escape his work and make a holiday. It wasn't altogether
_you_, my dear!"

"It's so human!"

"It's so--Sam."

They had a very jolly luncheon, and afterwards, the old servant having
arrived to take charge of the apartment and Elsie, the two women
accompanied Reddon down the hill as far as the Sorbonne, where Marion
was attending a course of lectures. Milly gathered that the little
woman, in spite of her housekeeping, the one child on the spot, and
another coming, had many lively interests and saw far more of Paris,
which she loved, than Milly and her husband did. Both the Reddons lived
carelessly, but lived hard every minute, taking all their chances, good
and bad, of the minutes to come. It was a useful philosophy, but not one
that Milly wholly admired.

Late that afternoon Milly met her husband in a frame of mind much more
serene than it was before she saw the Reddons, and told him her
momentous news. He seemed more pleased and less disturbed by it than she
had supposed possible. A