The Girl at Cobhurst Part 22

For Dora and Ralph to marry, Dora and Miriam should be the best of friends, so that both brother and sister should desire the alliance, and in furtherance of this happy result, Miss Panney determined to take Dora away with her. She had been at Cobhurst long enough to produce a desirable impression upon Ralph, and if she stayed longer, there was no knowing what might happen between her and Miriam. Dora, as well as the other, was high-spirited and young, and it was as likely as not that as she showed an inclination to continue to wear the teaberry gown, there would be a storm in which matrimonial schemes would be washed out of sight.

"Dora," said Miss Panney, "I am now going to drive to Thorbury, and it will be a great deal better for you to go with me than to wait for your brother, for it may be very late in the day before he can come for you.

And more than that, it is ten to one that by this time he has forgotten all about you, especially if his office is full of clients. So please get yourself ready as soon as possible. And, Miriam, if you will come over to see me some morning, and bring that teaberry gown with you, I will alter it to fit you, and arrange it so that you can do the sewing yourself. It is very appropriate that the little lady of the house should wear that gown."

Into the minds of Dora and Miss Panney there came, simultaneously, this idea: that no matter how much or how often Miriam might wear that gown, she would not be the first one whom it had figuratively invested with the prerogatives of the mistress of Cobhurst.

Miss Bannister, who well knew her brother's habits, agreed to the old lady's suggestion, and it was well she did so, for when she got home, Herbert declared that he had been puzzling his mind to devise a plan for sending for his sister and the broken buggy on the same afternoon. As for going himself, it was impossible.

When Dora came downstairs arrayed in her proper costume, Ralph thought her a great deal prettier than when she wore the pink chintz. Miss Panney thought so, too, and she managed to leave them together, while she went with Miriam to get pen and paper with which to write a note to Molly Tooney.

"Molly cannot read," said the old lady, "but if Mike will take that to her, she will come to you and stay as long as you like," and then she went on to talk about the woman until she thought that Ralph and Dora had had about five minutes together, which she considered enough.

"You must both come and see me," cried Miss Bannister, as, leaning from the phaeton, she stretched out her hand to Miriam.

"Indeed we shall do so," said Ralph, and as his sister relinquished the hand of the visitor he took it himself.

Miss Panney was not one of those drivers who start off with a jerk. Had she been such a one, Miss Bannister might have been pulled against the side of the phaeton, for the grasp was cordial.

CHAPTER XVIII

BLARNEY FLUFF

About three o'clock that afternoon, La Fleur, Mrs. Tolbridge's cook, sat in the middle of her very pleasant kitchen, composing the dinner. Had she been the chef of a princely mansion, she could not have given the subject more earnest nor intelligent consideration. It is true the materials at hand were not those from which a dinner for princes would have been prepared. But what she had was sufficient for the occasion, and this repast for a country gentleman in moderate circ.u.mstances and his wife was planned with conscientiousness as well as skill. From the first she had known very well that it would be fatal to her pretensions to prepare for the Tolbridges an expensive and luxurious meal, but she had determined that they should never sit down to any but a good one.

Her soup had been determined upon and was off her mind, and she had prepared that morning, from some residuary viands, which would have been wasted had she not used them in this way, the little entree which was to follow. Her filet, which the butcher had that morning declared he never separated from the contiguous portions for any one, but had very soon afterward cut out for her, lay in the refrigerator, awaiting her pleasure and convenience. The vegetables had been chosen, and her thoughts were now intent upon a "sweet" which should harmonize with the other courses.

On a chair, by the door opening into the garden, sat George, the doctor's man, who was coachman, groom, and gardener, and who, having picked a basket of peas, had been requested to sh.e.l.l them. By an open window, Amanda, the chambermaid, was extracting the stones from a little dish of olives.

George was working rapidly and a little impatiently.

"Madam," said he, "do you want all these peas sh.e.l.led?"

La Fleur turned and looked at him with a pleasant smile.

"I want enough to surround my filet, but whether you sh.e.l.l enough for us to have any, depends entirely on your good will, George."

"Of course I'll sh.e.l.l as many as you want," said he, "but I've got a lot to do this afternoon. There is the phaeton to be washed, that I don't want the doctor to come home and find muddy yet; and I ought to have done it this morning, madam, when I was walking about the garden with you, a tellin' you what I had and a hearin' what I ought to have."

"I was so glad to have you go with me, and show me everything," said La Fleur, "because I do not yet exactly understand American gardens. It is such a nice garden, too, and you do not know how pleased I was, after you left me and I was coming to the house, to see that fine bed of aubergines. When will any of them be ripe, do you think, George?"

The man looked up in surprise.

"There is nothing of that sort in my garden," said he. "I never heard of them."

"Oh, yes, you have," said La Fleur, "you call them egg-plants. You see, I am learning your American names for things. And now, Amanda, if you have finished the olives I'll get you to make a fine powder of those things which I have put into the mortar. Thump and grind them well with the pestle; they are to make the stuffing for the olives."

"But, madam, what is to become of the sewing Mrs. Tolbridge wants me to do? I have only hemmed two of the dozen napkins she gave me to do day before yesterday."

"Now, Amanda," said La Fleur, "you ought to know very well, that without a meal on the table, napkins are of no use. You might have the meals without napkins, but it wouldn't work the other way. And I am sure those napkins are not to be used for a week, or perhaps several weeks, and this dinner must be eaten to-day. So you can see for yourself--"

At this moment there was a knock at the inner door of the kitchen.

"Who can that be!" exclaimed La Fleur. "Come in."

The door opened, and Miss Panney entered the kitchen. La Fleur rose from her seat, and for a moment the two elderly women stood and looked at each other.

"And this is La Fleur," said Miss Panney; "Mrs. Tolbridge has been talking about you, and I asked her to let me come in and see you. I want to speak to you for a few minutes, and I will sit down here. Don't you stand up."

La Fleur liked people to come and talk to her, provided they were the right sort of people, and came in the right way. Miss Panney's salutation pleased her; she had a respect for people who showed a proper recognition of differences of position. If Miss Panney had been brought into the kitchen by Mrs. Tolbridge and in a manner introduced to La Fleur, the latter would have regarded her as something of an equal, and would not have respected her. Had the old lady accosted her in a supercilious manner, La Fleur would have disliked her, even if she had supposed she were a person to be respected. But Miss Panney had filled all the requirements necessary for the cook's favorable opinion. In the few words she had spoken, she had shown that she was a friend of the mistress of the house; that she had heard interesting things of the cook, and therefore wished to see her; that she knew this cook was a woman of sense, who understood what was befitting to her position, and would therefore stand when talking to a lady, and, moreover, in consequence of the fact that this cook was superior to her cla.s.s, she would waive the privileges of her cla.s.s, and request the cook to sit, while talking to her. To have waived this privilege without first indicating that she knew La Fleur would acknowledge her possession of it, would have been damaging to Miss Panney.

Upon the features of La Fleur, which were inclined to be bulbous, there now appeared a smile, which was very different from that with which she encouraged and soothed her conscripted a.s.sistants. It was a smile that showed that she was pleasurably honored, and it was accompanied by a slight bow and a downward glance. Then turning to the man and the maid, she told them in a low voice that they might go, a permission of which they instantly availed themselves.

Miss Panney now sat down, and La Fleur, pus.h.i.+ng her chair a little away from the table, availed herself of the permission to do likewise.

"I have eaten some of your cooking, La Fleur," said Miss Panney, "and I liked it so much that I wished to ask you something about it. For one thing, where did you get that recipe for that delicious ice, flavored with raspberry?"

The cook smiled with a new smile--one of genuine pleasure.

"To make that ice," she answered, "one must have more than a recipe: one must be educated. Tolati, my first husband, invented that ice, and no chef in Europe could make it but himself. But he taught me, and I make it for Dr. and Mrs. Tolbridge. It has a quality of cream, though there is no cream in it."

"I never tasted anything of the kind so good," said Miss Panney, "and I am a judge, for I have lived long and eaten meals prepared by the best cooks."

"French, perhaps," said La Fleur.

"Oh, yes," was the reply, "and those of other nations. I have travelled."

"I could see that," said La Fleur, "by your appreciation of my work.

French cooking is the best in the world, and if you have an English cook to do it, then there is nothing more to be desired. It is like the French china, with the English designs, which they make now. I once visited their works, and was very proud of my countrymen."

"The conceited old body," thought Miss Panney; but she said, "Very true, very true. It is delightful to me to think that my friends here have a cook who can prepare meals which are truly fit, not only to nourish the body without doing it any harm, but to gratify the most intelligent taste. I have noticed, La Fleur, that there is always something about your dishes that pleases the eye as well as the palate.

When we say that cooking is thoroughly wholesome, delicious, and artistic, we can say no more."

"You do me proud," said La Fleur, "and I hope, madam, that you may eat many a meal of my cooking. I want to say this, too: I could not cook for Dr. and Mrs. Tolbridge as I do, if I did not feel that they appreciate my work. I know they do, and so I am encouraged to do my best."

"Not only does the doctor appreciate you," said Miss Panney, "but his health depends upon you. He is a man who is peculiarly sensitive to bad cooking. I have known him all his life, and known him well. He was getting in a bad way, La Fleur, when you came here, and you are already making a new man of him."

"I like to hear that," said La Fleur. "I have a high opinion of Dr.

Tolbridge. I know what he is and what he needs. I often sit up late at night, thinking of things that will be good for him, and which he will like. We all work here: every one of the household is industrious, but the doctor and I are the only ones who must work with our brains. The others simply work with their bodies and hands."

Miss Panney fixed her black eyes on the bulbous-faced cook.

"The word conceit," she thought, "is imbecile in this case."

"I am glad you are both so well able to do it," she said aloud. "And you like it here? The place suits you?"