“Oh, the whole business of engaging her was very simple,” answered Mrs. Tolbridge.  “Her last husband left her some money, and she came to this country on a visit to relatives, but she loved her art so much, she said—­”

“Did she call it art?” asked Miss Panney.

“Yes, she did—­that she felt she must cook, and she lived for some time with a family named Drane, in Pennsylvania, with whom the doctor used to be acquainted.  She had a letter from them which fully satisfied me.  On her part she said she would be content with the salary I paid my last cook.”

“Did she call it salary?” exclaimed the old lady.

“That was the word she used,” answered Mrs. Tolbridge, “and as I said before, the only question she asked was whether or not my husband was in trade.”

“What did that matter?” asked the other.

“It seemed to matter a great deal.  She said she had never yet lived with a tradesman, and never intended to.  She was with Mrs. Drane, the widow of a college professor, for several months, and when the family found they could no longer afford to keep a servant who could do nothing but cook, La Fleur returned to her relatives, and looked for another position; but not until I came, she said, had any one applied who was not in trade.”

“She must be an odd creature,” said Miss Panney.

“She is odder than odd,” was the answer.  At this moment the maid came in and told Mrs. Tolbridge that the madam cook wanted to see her.  The lady of the house excused herself, and in a few minutes returned, smiling.

“She wished to tell me,” ’said she, “before my visitor left, that the name of the ‘sweet’ which she gave us at luncheon is la promesse, being merely a promise of what she is going to do, when she gets about her everything she wants.”

“Kitty Tolbridge,” said Miss Panney, solemnly, “whatever happens, don’t mind that woman’s oddity.  Keep your mind on her cooking, and don’t consider anything else.  She is an angel, and she belongs to the very smallest class of angels that visit human beings.  You may find, by the dozen, philanthropists, kind friends, helpers and counsellors, the most loving and generous; but a cook like that in a Thorbury family is as rare as—­as—­as—­I can’t think of anything so rare.  I came here, Kitty, to find out if you had written to that woman, and now to discover that the whole matter has been settled in two days, and that the doors of Paradise have been opened to Dr. Tolbridge—­for you know, Kitty, that the Garden of Eden was truly Paradise until they began to eat the wrong things—­I feel as if I had been assisting at a miracle.”

CHAPTER X

A SILK GOWN AND A BOTTLE