“Never mind: I will counsel her, and I will talk with her: I will get her to think that she herself has made the soufflé and the omelette and the tomato soup and the delectable preparation of crabs. She will know it not, except as her own handiwork, and I will be your cook.”
“It is too much to expect of you,” said Mrs Dawson, really won over by her paying guest’s extraordinary kindness.
“Have I found a home—and am I ungrateful?” was Mademoiselle’s response.
The result of this was that the two ladies came back the most excellent friends, and sat together until early dinner in that stifling little parlour. In that small room Mademoiselle got a good deal of information with regard to Brenda, whom she was interested in for more reasons than one, and also saw the advertisement for the lost bracelet with her own eyes. She read it over carefully and her black eyes glittered with excitement.
“It is a reward magnifique!” she said.
“I wish I could find it,” said Mrs Dawson.
“If we were both to find it, chère amie,” said the Frenchwoman, “we might divide the so great profits.”
“But we never can,” said Mrs Dawson. Then she added, after a minute’s pause, “All the same, I’d like to say something.”
“And what is that?” asked Mademoiselle.
“You mustn’t breathe it, please. You’re quite a stranger to me, but coming from Hazlitt Chase, and knowing Miss Beverley, I suppose you’re to be trusted.” Mademoiselle laid her hand dramatically on her very fat chest.