“Fancy a lost cook, ma’am! Was there ever such a ridiculous idea? And on the day of a dinner-party too! Did you ever hear of such a trial to a lady’s feelings before?”
“Never, I am sure,” responded the lady opposite. “Did you, ma’am?” turning to her neighbour.
But the other three ladies all shook their heads, bit their lips, and declared that they “Never had, they were sure!”
“I thought not!” ejaculated the narrator. “Well, ma’am, I went into the kitchens, the larder, the pantries, the cellars, and all sorts of places, and still no cook! Do you know, she really was nowhere! Actually, ma’am, the cook was lost!”
Shouts of laughter burst forth here; but the lady (who was No. 5) put up his hand, and called out in his own natural tones:—
“Stop! I haven’t got to the end yet!”
“Order!” proclaimed No. 4 immediately, in a very commanding voice, and thumping the table with the head of an old wooden doll to enforce obedience.
And then the sham lady proceeded in the same mincing voice as before:—
“Well!—dear me, I’m quite put out. But however, you see—what was to be done, that was the thing. It wanted only half an hour to dinner-time, and there was the meat roasting away by itself, and the potatoe-pan boiling over. You never heard such a fizzling as it made in your life—in short, everything was in a mess, and there was no cook.
“Well! I basted the meat for a few minutes, took the potatoe-pan off the fire, and then ran up-stairs to put on my bonnet. Thought I, the best thing I can do is to send somebody for the policeman, and let him find the cook. But while I was tying the strings of my bonnet, I fancied I heard a mysterious noise coming out of the bottom drawer of my wardrobe. Fancy that, ma’am, with my nerves in such a state from the cook being lost!”