nd Martin stood laughing on the threshold.

"You goose! What on earth are you talking about?"

"That's just it. I don't know. And how on earth am I to find out!
I've been interviewing cook, and she asked if I allowed it. Do I, or
don't I, and why should I not, and for goodness' sake _how_ does it
differ from dripping? I prevaricated, and looked economical, and
middle-aged. I saw my face in the dish covers, and it aged me horribly.
I thought I'd better find out at once."

"Yes, but you mustn't come running to me for such information. I've got
to buy the lard, remember, and I shan't be able to afford it, if I'm
interrupted. For all you know I might have been killing my heroine..."

"Then she'd have a reprieve, and I'd have done a good deed. You can't
seriously have begun yet, and this is so deadly important. You might
spare five minutes to instruct your poor wife."

Grizel perched herself on the corner of the table, and tilted the
boudoir cap at a beguiling angle. Martin stood with his back to the
fire and adopted a professorial air.

"Lard," he said sententiously, "is a substance compounded of a whitey
grease, contained for the purposes of trade in balloons or bladders of
skins--"

Grizel's face showed a network of horrified lines.

"How exceedingly disagreeable! I shall certainly _not_ allow it... And
what is dripping?"

"Dripping is, er--brown! So called because it drips from the meat in
the process of cooking. It is inferior to lard, and aspires to no
bladder, but lives in odd receptacles, such as jam jars. It is supposed
to supply an unconquerable temptation to a plain cook, and there are
fiends in the shape of men, who are said to spend their life tempting
cooks to sell the dripping. Katrine used to see dripping in the eye of
every unknown man who opened the gate. I never heard her make any
allegations about lard. Does that distinction afford you any
illumination?"

Grizel sighed, and turned to the door with an air of resignation.

"Well, good-bye, my loved one! Be very good to me, for you won't have
me long. If I've got to order meals, I shall never be able to eat them.
I foresee that. I never heard so much about grease in my life. Is
there nothing decent one could use instead?"

Martin hesitated.

"I believe--sometimes--butter!"

Grizel waved a triumphant hand.

"Of course! Butter! Why couldn't you have said that before? Nice,
clean, fresh butter. I'll tell her I allow