"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."