before her were three months--three beautiful months--of this
calm, this rest, this security.

At seven o'clock Matilda announced that her dinner was ready, and
she swept back into the great dining-room, high-ceilinged, surfaced
completely with old paneling of Flemish oak. The room was dimly
illuminated by a single shaded electric bulb. The other lighting had
all been switched off; during the summer the illumination would,
of course, have to be unsuspiciously meager. To a mortal of a less
exalted sphere the repast would have seemed a banquet. Mrs. De
Peyster, though an ascetic at noon, was something of an epicure at
night; she liked a comfortable quantity, and that of many varieties,
and these of the best. Under the ministrations of Matilda she
pleasurably disposed of clear soup, whitebait, a pair of squabs on
toast with asparagus tips, and an alligator pear salad.

"Really, Matilda," she remarked with benign approval as she leisurely
began on her iced strawberries, "I had quite forgotten that you were
such a wonderful cook. Most excellent!"

"Thank you, ma'am," In her enjoyment Mrs. De Peyster had not noticed
that throughout the meal her faithful attendant had worn a somewhat
troubled look.

"Just give me food up to this standard, and I shall be most happy,
my dear. My summer may grow somewhat tedious toward the end; I shall
count a great deal on good meals to keep it pleasant."

"Of course--of course--" and then a salad plate slipped from Matilda's
hands. "Oh, ma'am, I--I--"

"What is the matter, Matilda?" demanded Mrs. De Peyster, a trifle
stern at this ineptness.

"Nothing, ma'am. Nothing at all. I'll see that you get it, b--but I
don't know how I'll get it."

"Don't know how?"

"You see, ma'am, the butcher, the grocer, everybody thinks I'm the
only person in the house. We've always traded with these same people,
and I've stayed here alone now for fifteen summers, and they know I
eat very little and care only for plain food. And so to-day when I
ordered all these things, they--they grinned at me. And the butcher
said, 'Living pretty high, while the missus is away.'"

Mrs. De Peyster had dropped her dessert spoon, and was staring at her
confederate. "I never thought about food!" she exclaimed in dismay.

"Nor did I, ma'am, till the butcher spoke. And, besides, William
received the goods, and--and he smiled at me and said--"

"It does look suspicious!" interrupted Mrs. De Peyster.

"I think it does, m