ndertaken these for her province, she rushed
into the kitchen and began to see about them at once, in such a flurry
that she quite forgot the instructions she had received at the cookery
class. Fortunately, the other girls were looking on, and brought her to
book.

"You mustn't put the beans into cold water," shrieked Dora; "I've the
kettle boiling on purpose. And where's the pinch of carbonate of soda,
to keep the colour?"

"And the potatoes need salt," interposed Mabel. "They're old now, and
quite floury. You shouldn't do them with a sprig of mint; that was for
new ones."

"Finish the vegetables yourselves, then!" retorted Aldred, a little out
of temper. "I haven't made the bread sauce yet."

"Don't mind about it!"

"Yes, I shall; it's down on the menu."

"That doesn't matter."

"It matters very much. I shall have quite time, if you two will lay the
table. Only, don't disturb my arrangement of the flowers, because I've
put them just right; and be sure you tilt the menu card exactly opposite
Miss Drummond's place."

CHAPTER IV

Domestic Economy

At exactly two minutes to one o'clock Miss Drummond and Mademoiselle
arrived at the cottage, and were ushered by three rather nervous and
anxious housewives into the sitting-room, where the table, at any rate,
looked inviting, with its nice clean cloth and elaborately-folded
serviettes. The girls had arranged among themselves that Aldred was to
bring in and remove the soup and the cheese, Mabel the meat course and
the dessert, and Dora the sweets and the coffee. While the others,
therefore, were taking their seats, Aldred, with a good many misgivings,
poured her _potage_ into the little tureen which formed part of the
dinner service. She had never tasted French vegetable soup, and doubted
whether her compound bore the slightest resemblance to the wonderful
_bouillon maigre_ of which Madame Pontier had boasted; it seemed of such
a particularly weak and washy consistency, the herbs were not
half-cooked, and the salad oil was floating on the top, and refused to
mix up properly, though she stirred it vigorously with a spoon.

"I'm afraid it hasn't boiled enough on this wretched paraffin cooker,"
she thought. "Well, it will have to do now; I can't keep them waiting.
I'm glad Dora remembered the toast."

"A six-course dinner!" exclaimed Miss Drummond, picking up the menu with
great approval. "This is more than Mademoiselle and I had dreamed of! We
certainly n