“You need not say anything about that, madam,” replied La Fleur.  “Nobody can tell me anything about my work and value which I did not know before, and as for my salary, I fixed that myself, and there shall be no change.”

Miss Panney rose.  “La Fleur,” she said, “I am very glad I came here to talk to you.  I did not suppose that I should meet with such a sensible woman, and I shall ask a favor of you; please do not take any steps in this matter without consulting me.  I am going to work immediately to see what I can do for Miss Drane, and if I succeed it will be far better for her and her mother than if you went to them.  Don’t you see that?”

“Yes,” said La Fleur, “that is reasonable enough, but I must admit that I should like to see them.”

Miss Panney ignored the latter remark.

“Now do not forget, La Fleur,” she said, “to send me word when you get a letter, and then I may write to Miss Drane, but I shall go to work for her immediately.  And now I will leave you to go on with your dinner.  I shall dine here to-day, and I shall enjoy the meal so much better because I know the chef who prepared it.”

La Fleur resumed her seat and the consideration of her “sweet.”

“She is a wheedling old body,” she said to herself, “but I suppose I ought to give her something extra for that speech.”

The next morning Mrs. Tolbridge came into the kitchen.  “La Fleur,” said she, “what is the name of that delicious dessert you gave us last night?”

The cook sighed.  “She will always call the ‘sweet’ a dessert,” she thought; and then she answered, “That was Blarney Fluff, ma’am, with sauce Irlandaise.”

Mrs. Tolbridge laughed.  “Whatever is its name,” she said, “we all thought it was the sweetest and softest, most delightful thing of the kind we had ever tasted.  Miss Panney was particularly pleased with it.”

“I hoped she would be,” said La Fleur.

CHAPTER XIX

Miss Panney is “Took sudden”

“I have spoken to Mr. Ames about it,” said Dr. Tolbridge to Miss Panney, as two days later they were sitting together in his office, “and we are both agreed that teachers in Thorbury are like the vines on the gable ends of our church; they are needed there, but they do not flourish.  You see, so many of our people send their children away to school, that is, when they are really old enough to learn anything.”

“I would do it too, if I had children,” said the old lady; “but this is a matter which rises above the ordinary points of view.  I do not believe that you look at it properly, for if you did you would not sit there and talk so coolly.  Do you appreciate the fact that if Miss Drane does not soon get something to do, you will be living on soggy, half-baked bread, greasy fried meat, water-soaked vegetables, and muddy coffee, and every one of your higher sentiments will be merged in dyspepsia?”