emia, and that she and her husband had occupied a
similar roost for several years during their early married life.

"I am versed in many a makeshift and this minute could come to live in
the Latin Quarter on half of what you, with your extravagant American
notions, will spend," declared the marchioness, as she showed our
friends over the apartment. "Now this is my advice for the conducting of
your _menage_, Milly, but I am not like Henny Pace to get riled if you
do not take it. Get your own breakfast, which is a simple matter in
France, having fresh rolls and butter sent in every morning and making
your own coffee or chocolate; take your _dejeuner a la fourchette_, I
mean your luncheon at a restaurant; and then leave your dinners to
circumstances, sometimes having them at home or going out as the
occasion offers.

"Get a servant to come in and clean for you every morning by the hour,
but do not have a regular _bonne_. It would be a useless expense and
then there is no sense in your having to slave over housekeeping. The
way for foreigners to become acquainted with Paris is to see the
restaurants, and there are so many you need not get tired of the cooking
in any one. All I ask of you is to have a regular Kentucky supper for me
some night with----but never mind what with, it will be sure to be what
I want if Molly cooks it."

Molly was busy inspecting the kitchenette, which Mrs. Bent was showing
with much pride as it was quite unique in the Latin Quarter. There was a
tiny gas range, a convenience not often enjoyed as gas was a luxury not
as a rule afforded in Bohemia. The floor was of octagonal, terra cotta
tiles and there was a high mullioned window over the infinitesimal sink.
Long-handled copper skillets and stew pans were ranged along the walls,
suspended from hooks; and a strangely colored china press filled with an
odd assortment of dishes was at one side.

Mrs. Bent laughed when she saw Molly examining the press. "That is
inherited from Mr. Bent's student days. It is a plain deal closet,
colored with palette scrapings. It is always a great stunt with students
to make something like this. Mr. Bent has long ago outgrown it as a
studio furnishing and will have nothing short of mahogany around him,
but it is too roomy and useful for me to give up, so it is banished to
the limbo of the kitchen. I have known students to clean their palettes
many times a day just to get a little more scrapings on their presses."

Th