kept me well informed of the progress of Artie's passion for her,
and I could do nothing. I was surprised at her confiding such details
to any one, dismayed for Cary's sake, and worried as to how it would
turn out.

Finally the evening of the dinner came. I dressed and ran out to the
kitchen to see if everything was all right, for Mary was so jealous she
refused to let me engage an assistant, but doggedly persisted in
preparing and serving the dinner entirely by herself.

To my surprise, I found the dining-room and kitchen shades pulled up to
the tops of the windows, while every handsome dish Mary intended to
use, and all the extra silver, were carefully placed on top of the
laundry-tubs. Mary, apparently unconscious of observation, was flying
around with pink cheeks, and the eyes behind the spectacles snapping
with excitement.

"Don't say a word, Missus," she said, sitting on her heels before the
oven door. "I did it for the benefit of the rubber factory opposite.
They think I don't notice, but look at them windows. Not a light in
any of 'em, but all the curtains moving just a little. Do they think I
don't know there's a rubber behind every damn one of 'em? Don't laugh,
Missus dear, and don't look over there, whatever you do. If they want
a look at the things we eat, why let 'em! They know what they cost,
but I'll bet they never do more than ask the price of 'em, and then buy
soup-bones and canned vegetables for their own stomachs."

Mary didn't say stomachs, but much of Mary's conversation does not look
well in print.

"And just wait till I take in the 'peche flambee'!" she chuckled.
"I'll bet they'll order out the fire department!"

I said nothing, for the very excellent reason that there was really
nothing to say. Mary has a way of being rather conclusive. There was
no use in remonstrating or telling her not to, for she simply would not
have obeyed me, so I forbore to give the order.

Flora heard Mary let Artie Beg in, and ran down the corridor to meet
him. She was a vision in white--her graduation dress--with her snowy
shoulders rising modestly from a tulle bertha. I paused in order to
let her greet him first, and, to my consternation, before I could make
known my presence, I heard her say, plaintively:

"Aren't you going to kiss me?"

Then with a stifled groan Artie flung his arms around her, pressing her
to him as if he would never let her go. Then he pushed her away from
him almost roug