swarming stream of people, did not appeal to her as picturesque at all.
Only when she heard Eugene expatiating gravely did she begin to realize
that all this must have artistic significance. If Eugene said so it did.
But it was a fascinating world whatever it was, and it was obvious that
she was going to be very, very happy.

There was a breakfast in the studio then of hot biscuit with fresh
butter, an omelette with tomatoes, potatoes stewed in cream, and coffee.
After the long period of commonplace restaurant dining which Eugene had
endured, this seemed ideal. To sit in your own private apartment with a
charming wife opposite you ready to render you any service, and with an
array of food before you which revived the finest memories in your
gustatory experience, seemed perfect. Nothing could be better. He saw
visions of a happy future if he could finance this sort of thing. It
would require a lot of money, more than he had been making, but he
thought he could make out. After breakfast Angela played on the piano,
and then, Eugene wanting to work, she started housekeeping in earnest.
The trunks arriving gave her the task of unpacking and with that and
lunch and dinner to say nothing of love she had sufficient to do.

It was a charming existence for a little while. Eugene suggested that
they should have Smite and MacHugh to dinner first of all, these being
his closest friends. Angela agreed heartily for she was only too anxious
to meet the people he knew. She wanted to show him she knew how to
receive and entertain as well as anyone. She made great preparations for
the Wednesday evening following--the night fixed for the dinner--and
when it came was on the qui vive to see what his friends were like and
what they would think of her.

The occasion passed off smoothly enough and was the occasion of
considerable jollity. These two cheerful worthies were greatly impressed
with the studio. They were quick to praise it before Angela, and to
congratulate him on his good fortune in having married her. Angela, in
the same dress in which she had appeared at dinner in Buffalo, was
impressive. Her mass of yellow hair fascinated the gaze of both Smite
and MacHugh.

"Gee, what hair!" Smite observed secretly to MacHugh when neither Angela
nor Eugene were within hearing distance.

"You're right," returned MacHugh. "She's not at all bad looking, is
she?"

"I should say not," returned Smite who admired Angela's simple,
good-natured we