"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."

He proceeded to explain elaborately what the words meant, and then asked
her if she had remembered her previous lesson.

"Yes; ain't you--goin'--"

"Stop right there. Your next word to be eliminated is 'ain't.' You must
say 'aren't' or 'isn't.' And you must remember to put 'g' on the end of
every word ending in 'ing.' Don't let me hear you say 'goin', again,
I'll teach you one new word every day now. You see the measure of a maid
is her pure English."