employed in some capacity that had made her acquainted with luncheon
menus.

"And," concluded Amarilly, without waiting for prompting, "I think an
ice would be about right. And coffee in a little cup, and some cheese."

"By all means, Amarilly," he responded humbly. "And what kind of cheese,
please?"

"Now I'm stumped," thought Amarilly ruefully, "fer I can't 'member how
to speak the kind she hed."

"Most any kind," she said loftily, "except that kind you put in
mousetraps."

"Oh, Amarilly, you are a true aristocrat! How comes it that you scrub
floors? Is it on a bet?"

The waiter came up and said something to the artist in a low tone, and
Derry replied hastily:

"Nothing to-day." Then, turning to Amarilly, he asked her if she would
like a glass of milk. Upon her assent, he ordered two glasses of milk,
to the veiled surprise of the waiter.

When the luncheon was served, Amarilly, by reason of her good memory,
was still at ease. The children at the Guild school had been given a few
general rules in table deportment, but Amarilly had followed every
movement of Colette's so faithfully at the eventful luncheon that she
ate very slowly, used the proper forks and spoons, and won Derry's