"I?" returned Miriam, who never seemed happier than when sacrificing herself.
"Yes, by not buying hats like Shirley's, for instance," he answered, although he glanced at the girl in admiration.
Miriam sighed with joy. It was good to be appreciated—good to have some one to talk with who could appreciate their struggle.
"I won't deny," presently she said with a smile, "that it was rather trying at times; but it was a work of love, and we've succeeded."
Shirley sprang to her feet.
"Lawrence Challoner, I'm going to kiss you—you're the kind of a man I'm looking for!" And on the impulse of the moment she went over to him and made good her word. "I'm proud of you," she went on. "You're the real thing—you're a success!"
Challoner laughed as now he drew his wife closer to him.
"They are like a pair of doves," said Shirley to herself; and then aloud, as she started for the door: "Miriam, I'm going to fix up a bit for dinner. I hope we're going to have a dozen courses, for I'm starved."
When the door had closed behind her, Miriam rose and started for the kitchen.
"Miriam, girl," said Challoner, gently, "never mind about the dinner now—that can wait."