and learned how to make her own coffee and manipulate a kitchenette gas-range without smothering herself.
And her old Uncle Chandler, on becoming duly acquainted with this state of affairs, assented to everything but the bobbing of the hair, which he regarded as much too lovely hair to be snipped off anybody's head. He even put the seal of his approval on her insurrection by sending down to her a hamper of potted truffles and brandied peaches.
Yet he stood aghast, the next day, when these were duly returned to him. That reversal of form, in fact, so disturbed him that he couldn't get Teddie out of his mind, for a Teddie without an appetite was a Teddie who was no longer her old self. And the more he thought about it the more he realized that it was his plain and bounden duty to go down to Greenwich Village and investigate.
"The fact of the matter is," he confidentially acknowledged to old Commodore Stillman before the hickory-logs of the
