Miss Billy

not meet him in the hall, nor in the drawing-room. Excusing himself, Bertram hurried up-stairs. Billy was not in her room, nor anywhe

with just a touch of irritation, as if he sus

stared s

t know. Isn'

ete," frown

itchen Bertram found a din of rattling tin, an odor of burned food-, a confusion of scattered pots and pans, a frightened cat who peered at him

lly!" he

ng with something at th

ink I was a little wonderful because I could write a song. Well, I don't any more! But I'll tell you who is wonderful.

ing back to the door he had closed behin

tting dinner," choked

ete! E

that took hours to cook-only potatoes? And how did I know that they cooked in no time, and then got all smushy and wet staying in the wa

of six years, he made the mistake of trying to argue with a woman whose nerves were already at the snapping po

ttle tigress, Bi

on't go up-stairs and tend to that man up there,

ertra

. She was just herself in a pretty little morning house gown of blue gingham. She was minus the dust-cap and the ruffled apron, but she had a dab of flour on the left cheek, and a smutch of crock on her forehead. She had, too, a c

ure, for-didn't Bertram tell you?-I'm playing Bridget to-night. But dinner is ready no

en, stared in sheer amazement. Bertram, it might be men

ch fritters, a "lettuce and stuff" salad, and some new pie or pudding. What she did serve was: grapefruit (without the cherries), cold roast lamb, potatoes (a mush of sogginess), tomatoes

ty itself. Inwardly she was burning up with anger and mortification. And because she was all this, there was, apparently, no limit to her laughter and sparkling repartee as she talked with Cald

ched Billy with a puzzled, uneasy frown. Bertram, choking over the few mouthfuls he ate, marke

st, and the stale cake left. (Billy had forgotten the coffee-which was ju

ning-room had become. At ten, Calderwell, with very evident reluctance, tore himself away from Billy's gay badinage, and said good night

n't! It went off all rig

lease don't cry so! As if I'd ever le

ear-wet face, aflame wit

another thing in all my life but cook! When I think of the stuff we had to eat, after all the time I took