"You need a holiday yourself," said Marie severely. "You're so bitter.
You want something to sweeten you."

Julia looked at Marie with a yearning softness unexpected in her.
"Well, haven't I come to see _you_? You're the sweetest thing I
know. And it's fine to see you so happy. As for your toast, it's
scrumptious."

"Eat it quickly. I want to show you round before I begin to cook
dinner."

"Fancy you cooking dinner!" said Julia, looking at Marie's little,
pampered hands.

Marie had the first faint thrill of the heroine.

"I have to. We can't afford a servant, you know, yet, though, when
Osborn gets his rise, perhaps we shall."

"When will that be?"

"Oh, I don't know. This year--next year--"

"Sometime--never," said Julia.

"Osborn is very clever. He is so valuable to his firm; they wouldn't
lose him for anything, so they'll have to give him a bigger salary.
Brains like Osborn's don't go cheap."

"That's awf'ly nice," Julia replied. She looked down, and stroked the