"Are you sure, Mike," she asked, "that they are not engaged?"
"I'm dead sartain sure of it," he said. "His sister told me so with her own lips. Givin' dogs don't mean nothin', Mrs. Flower. If people married all the people they give dogs to, there'd be an awful mix in this world. Bless my soul, I'd have about eight wives my own self."
La Fleur smiled at Mike's philosophy, and applied his information to the comfort of her mind.
"If his sister says they are not engaged," she thought, "it's like they are not, but it looks to me as if it were time to take the Bannister pot off the fire."
La Fleur now retired to a seat under a tree near the kitchen door, and applied her intellect to the consideration of the dinner, and the future of the Drane family and herself. The present state of affairs suited her admirably. She could desire no change in it, except that Mr. Haverley should marry Miss Cicely in order to give security to the situation. For herself, this was the place above all others at which she would like to live, and a mistress such as Miss Cicely, who knew little of domestic affairs, but appreciated everything that was well done, was the mistress she would like to serve. She would be sorry to leave the good doctor, for whom, as a man of intellect, she had an earnest sympathy, but he did not live in the country, and the Dranes were nearer and dearer to her than he was. He should not be deserted nor neglected. If she came to spend the rest of her life on this fine old estate, she would engage for him a good young cook, who would be carefully instructed by her in regard to the peculiarities of his diet, and who should always be under her supervision. She would get him one from England; she knew of several there who had been her kitchen maids, and she would guarantee that the one she selected would give satisfaction.
Having settled this part of her plan, she now began to ponder upon that important feature of it which concerned the marriage of Miss Cicely with Ralph Haverley. Why, under the circumstances, this should not take place as a mere matter of course and as the most natural thing in the world, she could not imagine. But in all countries young people are very odd, and must be managed. She had not yet had any good opportunity of judging of the relations between these two; she had noticed that they were on very easy and friendly terms with each other, but this was not enough. It might be a long time before people who were jolly good friends came to look upon each other from a marrying point of view. Things ought to be hurried up; that Miss Bannister would be away for two weeks; she, La Fleur, would be here for two weeks. She must try what she could do; the fire must be brightened,—the draught turned on, ashes raked out, kindling-wood thrust in if necessary, to make things hotter. At all events the dinner-bell must ring at the appointed time, in a fortnight, less one day.
Ralph came striding across the lawn, and noticing La Fleur, approached her.
"I am glad to see you," he said, "for I want to tell you how much I enjoyed your beefsteak this morning. One could not get anything better cooked than that at Delmonico's. The dinner last night was very good, too."
"Oh, don't mention that, sir," said La Fleur, who had risen the moment she saw him, and now stood with her head on one side, her eyes cast down, and a long smile on her face. "That dinner was nothing to what I shall give you when Miss Miriam has sent for some things from the town which I want. And as for the steak, I beg you will not judge me until I have got for myself the cuts I want from the butcher. Then you shall see, sir, what I can do for you. In a beautiful home like this, Mr. Haverley, the cooking should be of the noblest and best."
Ralph laughed.