Amarilly of Clothes-line Alley

At half past eight on the morning indicated, Amarilly's ring at the door

of the studio was answered by Derry, whose face was covered with lather.

"Hello, Amarilly!" he exclaimed heartily, extending his hand in genial

comradeship. "I am glad to see you again. Been pretty well through the

summer? Well, come on into the butler's pantry, and see what you can do

in a coffee way while I finish shaving."

Amarilly had been receiving instruction in domestic science, including

table service, at the Guild school. Colette, interested in the studio

work, had provided some minute muslin aprons and a little patch of linen

for the head covering of the young waitress, advising her that she must

wear them while serving breakfast. So when Derry emerged from his

dressing-room, a trimly equipped little maid stood proudly and anxiously

awaiting him.

"Why, bless your heart, Amarilly! I feel really domesticated. You look

as natty as a new penny, and the little white cap is great on your hair.

I see you have remembered how to fix it."

"Thank you, Mr. Derry, but please sit down while your coffee is hot."

"'Deed I will, and if it tastes as good as it smells, I shall raise your

remuneration."

He pronounced the coffee delicious, the grapefruit fixed to his liking,

the toast crisp, and the eggs boiled just to the right consistency.

"And have you had breakfast, Amarilly?"

"Yes, Mr. Derry, at half past five."

"Jiminy! you should be ready for another. Now talk to me while I eat.

Tell me about your reverend friend who was so daffy on the subject of

pockets. Has he located any yet?"

Amarilly looked troubled.

"Miss King said I wa'n't to talk to you while I was serving."

"Tell Miss King with Mr. Phillips' compliments that artists are not

conventional, and that you and I are not in the relation to each other

of master and maid. We are good friends, and quite _en famille_. You are

such a fine cook, I think I shall have you serve me luncheon at one

o'clock. Can you?" "Oh, yes; I should love to, Mr. Derry."

"I'll stock the larder, then. No; I can't be bothered, and I'd feel too

much like a family man if I went about marketing. I'll give you _carte

blanche_ to order what you will."

"What's that, Mr. Derry?"

"Good! We mustn't neglect your education. I am glad you asked me. You

might have always supposed it a breakfast-food."