and
unlimited baths. In the orphan asylum and in Sarah's house she had been
used to but one bath a week. As she grew to womanhood she had attempted
more frequent baths. But the effort proved disastrous, arousing, first,
Sarah's derision, and next, her wrath. Sarah had crystallized in the era
of the weekly Saturday night bath, and any increase in this cleansing
function was regarded by her as putting on airs and as an insinuation
against her own cleanliness. Also, it was an extravagant misuse of fuel,
and occasioned extra towels in the family wash. But now, in Billy's
house, with her own stove, her own tub and towels and soap, and no one
to say her nay, Saxon was guilty of a daily orgy. True, it was only a
common washtub that she placed on the kitchen floor and filled by hand;
but it was a luxury that had taken her twenty-four years to achieve. It
was from the strange woman next door that Saxon received a hint, dropped
in casual conversation, of what proved the culminating joy of bathing. A
simple thing--a few drops of druggist's ammonia in the water; but Saxon
had never heard of it before.

She was destined to learn much from the strange woman. The acquaintance
had begun one day when Saxon, in the back yard, was hanging out a couple
of corset covers and several pieces of her finest undergarments. The
woman leaning on the rail of her back porch, had caught her eye, and
nodded, as it seemed to Saxon, half to her and half to the underlinen on
the line.

"You're newly married, aren't you?" the woman asked. "I'm Mrs. Higgins.
I prefer my first name, which is Mercedes."

"And I'm Mrs. Roberts," Saxon replied, thrilling to the newness of the
designation on her tongue. "My first name is Saxon."

"Strange name for a Yankee woman," the other commented.

"Oh, but I'm not Yankee," Saxon exclaimed. "I'm Californian."

"La la," laughed Mercedes Higgins. "I forgot I was in America. In other
lands all Americans are called Yankees. It is true that you are newly
married?"

Saxon nodded with a happy sigh. Mercedes sighed, too.

"Oh, you happy, soft, beautiful young thing. I could envy you to
hatred--you with all the man-world ripe to be twisted about your pretty
little fingers. And you don't realize your fortune. No one does until
it's too late."

Saxon was puzzled and disturbed, though she answered readily:

"Oh, but I do know how lucky I am. I have the finest man in the world."

Mercedes Higgins sighed again and changed th