Amarilly looked distressed.
"What's the matter, Amarilly? Don't you want to learn to speak properly?"
"Yes, I do, Mr. Derry; but Miss King—she don't want me to speak diff'rent. She likes to hear me talk ignorant, and she said she was afeard you'd make me brom—"
"Brom?" he repeated.
"There was some more to it, but I fergit."
"Bromidic," he said triumphantly, after an instant's pondering. "You can never under any circumstances be that, and I shall develop your imagination and artistic temperament at the same time. Miss King is selfish to wish to keep you from cultivating yourself for the purpose of furnishing her entertainment. By the way, I am to meet her to-night at a dinner, and I think we shall have a mutual subject for conversation. I must get to work, now. Clear away the dishes. And finish the rest of this toast and coffee. It would be wicked to waste it."
Amarilly substituted a work apron for the little white covering, and was soon engaged in "redding."
At eleven o'clock the place was in perfect order, and she went into the studio where Deny was at work.
"Shall I go get the things fer lunch?"
"Luncheon, if you please, Amarilly. I like that word better. It seems to mean daintier things. Here's a five-dollar bill. Get what you consider proper for a simple little home luncheon, you know. Nothing elaborate."