A Taste of Bohemia
worried by the "Philistine," but consoled by the "fine man."
"Now, Cousin Elsie," continued Roberta reflectively, "doesn't approve of me one bit—I see it plainly. And I know why. She knows how I detest housework and managing and planning ahead. I want to spend my money for personal things, artistic things, not washtubs and soup-tureens. The care of a house would drive me wild; those little tiresome, endless details I have no sympathy with. But Cousin Elsie loves them, I do believe. Now, you, Ritchie, sympathize with me. You have my temperament. If you wanted to come down with me when I go, I'd like to have you stay a week or so. Could you?"
"Oh, Cousin Roberta, I should love to! Do you really mean it? Really?"
Barbara was in ecstasy at the very prospect, but suddenly her face fell.
"They'd never let me, never!" she said gloomily.
"I suppose not," Bobbie agreed. "Of course, you know, New York isn't anything in the summer. No one's in town,
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