.15 P.M. on March 31st. Then
there's my writing."

"Oh," she said in a surprised tone "do they pay you for that? I
always thought you gave them so much a line to put things in--like
advertisements, you know."

"Madam," I answered with dignity, "when you find yourself, from April
1st until April 20th, depending each year upon my pen for the very
bread you eat, perchance you will regret those wounding words."

"Well, what else?"

I shook my head.

"That's all," I said. "We don't seem to have got very far, do we?
Couldn't you--er--trim hats, or take in washing, or something?"

"No--but _you_ could. I mean, we haven't counted in your salary yet,
have we?"

"What salary?"

"Well, whatever they give you for doing whatever you do. What were you
getting before the War?"

"Oh, nothing much."

"Yes, but _how_ much?"

"Really," I began stiffly.

"If you're ashamed to say it right out, just tell me how far it would
take us."

"To about the end of September, I should think."

"Oh, dear! Three more months to go." A frown wrinkled her forehead;
then her brow cleared. "Why, of course we haven't counted in the
holidays."

"They aren't usually an asset."

"Yes, they are--if you spend them with your rich relations. I've got
lots, but I don't think they'd like _you_ much."

"All right," said I shortly; "_keep_ your beastly relations. I shall
go to Uncle Alfred for October. _He_ loves me."

"That leaves November and December," she mused. "Oh, well, there's
nothing else for it--we must quarrel."

"What, now?"

"No, stupid. Every October 31st, by letter. Then I'll go home to
mother, and you'll stay with Uncle Alfred some more. I hope he'll like
it."

"Y-e-s," I said doubtfully. "That would do it, of course. But we
shan't see very much of each other that way, shall we? Still, I
suppose.... Good Heavens!"

"What's the matter?"

"Phyllis, we've forgotten all about income-tax. That means about
another two months to account for."

"My dear, how _awful!_"

There was a pause while we both thought deeply.

"Couldn't you ..." we began together at last, and each waited for the
other to finish.

"Look here," I remarked, "we're both very good at finding things for
the other to do. Isn't there anything we could do together--a job for
'respectable married couple,' you know?"

"Why, of course--caretaking! We'll look after ducal mansions in the
silly season, when everybody's out of town. Then we'll see simply
heaps