“It is Miss Dora Bannister,” she said, “and of course you know all about the Bannister family.  I tell you this, because I consider that, under the circumstances, you ought to know it, but I expect you to mention it to no one, for the matter has not been formally announced.  Now, I am sure that a woman of your sense can easily see what the friends of Mr. Haverley, who know all about the state of affairs, will think and say when they see Mrs. Drane’s attempt to get for her daughter what rightfully belongs to another person.”

If it had appeared to the mind of La Fleur that it was a dreadful thing to get for one’s daughter a lifelong advantage which happened to belong to another, she might have greatly resented this imputation against Mrs. Drane.  But as she should not have hesitated to try and obtain said advantage, if there was any chance of doing it, the imputation lost force.  She did not, therefore, get angry, but merely asked, wishing to get as deep into the matter as possible, “And then it is all settled that he’s to marry Miss Bannister?”

“Everything is not yet arranged, of course,” said Miss Panney, speaking rapidly, for she heard approaching footsteps, “and you are not to say anything about all this or mention me in connection with it.  I only spoke to you for the sake of the Dranes.  It is your duty to get them away from here.”

She had scarcely finished speaking when Miriam entered the kitchen.  La Fleur had never seen her before, for on her previous visit it had been Ralph who had given her permission to interview Molly Tooney, and she regarded her with great interest.  La Fleur’s long years of service had given her many opportunities of studying the characters of mistresses, in high life as well as middle life, but never had she seen a mistress like this school-girl, with her hair hanging down her back.

Miriam advanced toward La Fleur.

“My cook told me that you were here, and I came down, thinking that you might want to see me.”

“This is Madam La Fleur,” interpolated Miss Panney, “the celebrated chef who cooks for Dr. Tolbridge.  She came, I think, to see Mrs. Drane.”

“Not altogether.  Oh, no, indeed,” said La Fleur, humbly smiling and bowing, with her eyes downcast and her head on one side.  “I wished, very much, also, to pay my respects to Miss Haverley.  I am only a cook, and I am much obliged to this good lady—­Miss Panic, I think is the name—­”

“Panney,” sharply interpolated the old lady.

“Beg pardon, I am sure, Miss Panney—­for what she has said about me; but when I come to pay my respects to Mrs. Drane, I wish to do the same to the lady of the house.”

There was a gravity and sedateness in Miriam’s countenance, which was not at all school-girlish, and which pleased La Fleur; in her eyes it gave the girl an air of distinction.

“I am glad to see you,” said Miriam, and turned to Miss Panney, as if wondering at that lady’s continued stay in the kitchen.  Miss Panney understood the look.