“You!” exclaimed Miss Panney.  “What earthly difference does it make to anybody whether you are happy or not?”

The jelly seemed to grow softer and more transparent.

“I am only a cook,” said La Fleur, “but I can be as happy as persons of the highest quality, and I understand their natures very well, having lived with them.  And words cannot tell you, madam, how it gladdens my old heart to think that I had so much to do myself with the good fortunes of us all, for the Dranes and me are a happy family now, and I hope may long be so, and hold together.  I am sure I did everything that my humble mind could conceive, to give those two every chance of being together, and to keep other people away by discussing household matters whenever needed; for I had made up my mind that Miss Cicely and Mr. Haverley were born for each other, and if I could help them get each other, I would do it.  When your telegram came, madam, it disturbed me, for I saw that it might spoil everything, by taking him away just at the time when they had nobody but each other for company, and when he was beginning to forget that he had ever been engaged to Miss Bannister, as you told me he was, madam, though I think you must have been a little mistaken, as we are all apt to be through thinking that things are as we want them to be.  But I couldn’t help feeling thankful that nobody but me was home when the telegram was brought without any envelope on it, and I had no chance to give it to him until it was too late to take a train that night; for the trouble the poor gentleman was in on account of his sister, being sure, of course, that something had happened to her, put him into such a doleful way that Miss Cicely gave herself up, heart and soul, to comfort him.  And when a beautiful young woman does that for a young man, their hearts are sure to run together, like two eggs broken into one bowl.  Now that’s exactly what theirs did that night, for being so anxious about them I watched them and kept Mrs. Drane away.  The very next morning when I asked her to go into the garden and pick some lettuce, and then told him where she was, he offered himself and was accepted.  So you see, madam, that without boasting, or exalting myself above others, I may really claim that I made this match that I set my heart on.  Although, to be sure—­for I don’t take away rightful credit from anybody—­some of the credit is yours for having softened up their hearts with your telegram, just at the very moment when that sort of softening could be of the most use.”

Miss Panney sat up very cold and severe.

“La Fleur,” said she, “I thought you were a cook who prided herself on attending to her business.  Since I have been sitting here, listening to your twaddle, the cat has been making herself comfortable in that pan of bread dough that you set by the fire to rise.”

La Fleur turned around; her impulse was to seize a poker and rush at the cat.  But she stood where she was and infused more benignity into her smile.