ied Flamby. "What a dear little place!"

Don, who had been watching her anxiously, saw that she was really
delighted and he entered into the spirit of the thing immediately. "I
think it is simply terrific," he said. "I have often envied the Aunt her
abode and wished I were an eligible spinster or widow. You have not seen
the inner sanctuary yet; it is delightfully like a state-room."

Flamby passed through the doorway into the bedroom, which indeed was not
much larger than a steamer cabin and was fitted with all those
space-saving devices which one finds at sea; a bureau that was really a
wash-basin, and a hidden wardrobe.

"There is a communal kitchen," explained Don, "with up-to-date
appointments, also a general laundry, and there are bathrooms on both
floors. I don't mean perpendicular bathrooms, so I should perhaps have
said on either floor. In that cunning little alcove in the sitting-room
is a small gas-stove, so that you will have no occasion to visit the
kitchen unless you are preparing a banquet. You enjoy the use of the
telephone, which is in the reading-room over the main entrance--and what
more could one desire?"

"It's just great," declared Flamby, "and I can never hope to thank you
for being so good to me. But I am wondering how I am going to afford
it."

"My dear Flamby, the rent of this retreat is astoundingly modest. You
will use very little coal, electric and gas meters are of the
penny-in-the-slot variety immortalised in song and story by Little Tich,
and there you are."

"I was thinking about the furniture," said Flamby.

"Eh!" cried Don--"furniture? Yes, of course; upon more mature
consideration I perceive distinctly that some few items of that kind
will be indispensable. Furniture. Quite so."

"You hadn't thought of that?"

"No--I admit it had slipped my memory. The question of furniture does
not bulk largely in the mind of one used to billeting troops, but of
course it must be attended to. Now, how about the furniture of
What's-the-name Cottage?"

Flamby shook her head. "We had hardly any. Dad used to make things out
of orange boxes; he was very clever at it. He didn't like real
furniture. As fast as poor mother saved up and bought some he broke it,
so after a while she stopped. I've brought the clock."

"Ah!" cried Don gaily--"the clock. Good. That's a start. You will at
least know at what time to rise in the morning."

"I shall," agreed Flamby--"from the floor!"

The fascinating