ad not the least notion of how much or how
little constituted a "dash", so she put a liberal interpretation on the
term and added a teacupful of vinegar, and half a bottle of salad oil.

"There! That ought to be worthy of a _cordon bleu_," she said to
herself. "Now I must let it simmer away, and it will be delicious."

She set her pan on the oil cooker, and ran out to the garden, to pick
some flowers for the table. This was a part of the day's work that
appealed to her more than the cookery, so she lingered for some time
making an artistic combination of poppies, grasses, and sweet scabious.
When she arrived back at the cottage, she was greeted by both Mabel and
Dora with rueful faces.

"Your lamp has been flaring up in the scullery, and has made such a
mess!" began Dora. "It's sent black smuts over everything! They came
right through into the kitchen, and fell into the blancmange. I had
hard work to fish them out."

"And the scullery looks as if it wants spring cleaning," added Mabel.
"I'm afraid we shall have to put clean paper on the shelves."

Aldred rushed to ascertain the fate of her pan. Mabel had taken it off
and turned the lamp out, but there was still a very nasty, oily smell in
the air. Dora, who was the most practical of the three, examined the
cooker and re-trimmed the wick.

"You won't have to turn it too high," she said. "These lamps always
smoke very easily. We used to use a paraffin heater in our greenhouse at
home, and it wasn't at all satisfactory. I should leave it only half on,
like this, if I were you."

"It won't cook very fast!" objected Aldred.

"Well, you don't want soup to boil, only to simmer. We must have the
back door open, to get rid of this smell. It's perfectly sickening! I'll
help you to clean up, while Mabel finishes the pastry."

The catastrophe with the lamp was most annoying. The smuts had settled
so persistently that nearly everything had to be taken down and wiped,
or dusted.

"Miss Drummond may very likely peep into the scullery," said Dora. "It
would never do for her to find it covered with blacks; she'd think we
were dreadfully bad housekeepers. All the things in the cottage are so
beautifully new and clean, it's a shame to have a speck anywhere. Isn't
it time to put on the beans and the potatoes?"

The morning had certainly crept along very fast, and if the dinner was
to be punctual to the moment, it was not any too soon to think of the
vegetables. As Aldred had u