a veil tied smoothly over her face, looking
as fresh as the spring morning. Maybe she
would be carrying home a bunch of jonquils or
a hyacinth plant. When we passed a candy
store her footsteps would hesitate and linger.
"Don't let me go in," she would murmur.
"Get me by if you can." She was very fond
of sweets, and was afraid of growing too
plump.

We had delightful Sunday breakfasts to-
gether at Lena's. At the back of her long
work-room was a bay-window, large enough
to hold a box-couch and a reading-table. We
breakfasted in this recess, after drawing the
curtains that shut out the long room, with
cutting-tables and wire women and sheet-
draped garments on the walls. The sunlight
poured in, making everything on the table
shine and glitter and the flame of the alcohol
lamp disappear altogether. Lena's curly black
water-spaniel, Prince, breakfasted with us.
He sat beside her on the couch and behaved
very well until the Polish violin-teacher across
the hall began to practice, when Prince would
growl and sniff the air with disgust. Lena's
landlord, old Colonel Raleigh, had given her
the dog, and at first she was not at all pleased.

[[317]]

p316 _ -chap- _ toc-1 _ p317w _ toc-2 _ +chap+ _ p318

v?