Amarilly of Clothes-line Alley

At one o'clock she again garbed herself in cap and apron and called

Derry to a luncheon which consisted of bouillon, chops, French peas,

rolls, a salad, and black tea served with lemon.

"Amarilly," he announced solemnly, "you are surely the reincarnation of

a chef. You are immediately promoted from housemaid to housekeeper with

full charge over my cuisine, and your wages doubled."

"And that's going some for one day!" Amarilly gleefully announced to the

family circle that night.

Her teacher, greatly interested and gratified at her pupil's ability to

put her instruction to practical use and profit, made out on each Monday

a menu for the entire week. She also gave her special coaching in

setting table and serving, so Derry's domestic life became a thing of

pride to himself and his coterie of artists. He gave little luncheons

and studio teas in his apartments, Amarilly achieving great success in

her double role of cook and waitress.

Her work was not only profitable financially, but it developed new

tastes and tendencies. Every day there was the new word eagerly grasped

and faithfully remembered. "Fer," "set," "spile," "orter," and the like

were gradually entirely eliminated from her vocabulary. Unconsciously

she acquired "atmosphere" from her environment. In her spare moments

Amarilly read aloud to Derry, while he painted, he choosing the book at

random from his library.

"I want to use you for a model this afternoon," he remarked one day as

she was about to depart. "Braid your hair just as tight as you can, the

way you had it the first day you came. Put on your high-necked, long-

sleeved apron, and get it wet and soapy as it was that first day, and

then come back to the studio with your scrubbing brush and pail."

Amarilly did as she was bidden with a reluctance which the artist,

absorbed in his preparations for work, did not notice.

"Yes; that's fine," he said, glancing up as she came to him. "Now get

down here on your knees by the--what kind of boards did you call them,

Amarilly? Mopboards? Yes, that was it. Now try and put your whole mind

on the memory of the horror you felt at the accumulation of dirt on that

first day, and begin to scrub. Turn your head slightly toward me, tilted

just a little--so--There, that's fine! Keep that position just as long

and just as well as you possibly can."

Derry began to paint, mechanically at first, and then as he warmed to

his subject and became interested in his conception, with rapidity and

absorption.