Marie rushed into The Frock, determined to keep up the standard they had set themselves, just two minutes before Osborn arrived home.

He kneeled to kiss her; they embraced rapturously.

“You’ve had a nice day?” he was anxious to know.

“Lovely.  Mother came, and Julia, and I unpacked, and went to market, and did everything by myself—­”

“I’m glad you had plenty to amuse you, dear one.”

“’Amuse’?” said Marie a trifle blankly.  “I’ve been working ever so hard all day, really, Osborn.”

“Work?” he teased, smiling.  “You ’working’!” He kissed one little hand after the other.  “They couldn’t,” he mumbled over them.  He seemed to take woman’s great tasks lightly, as if he did not realise how serious, how enervating they were.

“They’re too pretty,” he said.

He began to talk, while he carved the chicken.

“It seemed a bit beastly to go back to work to-day after our good time.  However, I’ve all the more reason for going back to work now, haven’t I, Mrs. Kerr?  You’ll keep me up to the scratch, won’t you?  Look!  I’m carving this bird like an old family man already.  They were all asking me, down there, how I liked my honeymoon, and where we went and what we saw.  A lot of them began talking of the time they’d had.  They all said it never lasts.  People are fools, aren’t they?”

“Not to make it last?” said Marie.  “Yes, dear.”

“The attitude of the average man towards married life is sickening,” said Osborn, “but I’m glad to think you’ll never know anything about that, little girl.”

Marie had a great feeling, as she looked under the candle-shades, at Osborn, that she had found the king of men:  lover, protector and knight.

“The attitude of the average woman towards married life is perfectly mean, Osborn.  But you’ll never know anything about that, either.”

He knew, as he returned her look across the flowers, that he alone had achieved every man’s desire; he had found the perfect mate; she who would never soil, nor age, nor weep, nor wound; the jewel-girl.

CHAPTER V

HOUSEKEEPING

Marie had not thought of money in relation to herself and Osborn.  He was known, in the set among which they both moved, and had met and loved and married, as a promising young fellow doing very well indeed, in a steady fashion, for his age.  He had a salary, when they set up housekeeping in No. 30, of two hundred a year, with a very good rise indeed, a 25 per cent, rise, at the end of every five years.  And he earned this and that now and again in odd channels, vaguely dubbed commission, or expenses.  So, as a bachelor, Osborn could be almost splendid in their set, and as a husband he was resolved to be conscientious and careful.  He had decided to give up his inexpensive club, and presently he meant to go into the matter of conscience and care, to give it a figure, but not so soon after the honeymoon as Marie drew him into it.  It was all very comfortable saying to oneself:  “I must make some arrangement; all in good time,” but the making of it left one a little cold, a little surprised, inclined to thought.