"It was all absolutely ready, thank you, mother."

"I brought the things the day before, except the cream. That I told
him to get. And the flowers. I don't see the flowers, love."

"They are mostly in the drawing-room," said Marie.

"I should like to see the drawing-room now it's finished," said Mrs.
Amber, rising eagerly.

In the small room of pale hues she stood satisfied, almost entranced.
But she had those sad things to say which occur inevitably to elderly
women of domestic avocations.

"This white paint! You'll have something to do, my child, keeping it
clean. It marks so. I know that. Yes, it's pretty, but this time next
year I hope you won't be sorry you had it. But of course, just for the
two of you--well, you'll both have to be careful. You'll have to warn
Osborn, my dear. Men need reminding so often."

"Osborn is rather different from most men," said Marie. "He is so very
thoughtful; he made me some tea early this morning, and did the
dining-room grate, and lighted the geyser, and everything."

"That won't last, my dear," replied Mrs. Amber, in a tone of quiet
authority, but not lamenting.

"Osborn is not a man who changes, mother," said Marie.