Here, what are you going to do?" cried Vane.

"What you told me, sir," said cook austerely, and with a great hardening
of her face. "I don't forget my dooties, sir, if other people do."

"Oh, but never mind, cook," cried Vane. "I'm sorry I asked you."

"Pray don't say any more about it, sir. The things shall be cooked and
sent to table, and it's very thankful you ought to be, I'm sure, that
master's a doctor and on the spot ready, for so sure as you eat that
mess in the parlour, you'll all be on a bed of sickness before night."

"Now, Martha," cried Vane; "that's just what you said when I asked you
to cook the parasol mushrooms."

"Paragrandmother mushrooms, sir; you might just as well call them by
their proper name, umberrella toadstools, and I don't believe any one
ate them."

"Yes; uncle and I ate them, and they were delicious. Cook these the
same way."

"I know how to cook them, sir, only it's an insult to proper mushrooms
to dress them in the same way as good wholesome food."

"That's good wholesome food," said Vane, "only people don't know it. I
wanted to bring you some big puff balls to fry for me, but you turn so
cross about it."

"And enough to make anyone turn cross, sir. There, that will do now.
I've said that I'd cook them, and that's enough."

Vane Lee felt that there was nothing to be done now but make a retreat,
and he went into the hall where Eliza Jane, the doctor's housemaid, was
whisking a feather-brush about, over picture-frames, and ornaments,
curiosities from different parts of the world, and polishing the hall
table. From this she flew to the stand and caught up the hat brush with
which she attacked the different hats on the pegs, speaking over her
shoulder at Vane in a rapid way as she went on.

"Now, don't you ask me to do anything, Master Vane, because I'm all
behind, and your aunt's made the tea and waiting for you, and your uncle
will be back directly, for he has only gone down the garden for a walk,
and to pick up the fallen peaches."

"Wasn't going to ask you to do anything," was the reply.

"But you've been asking cook to do something, and a nice fantigue she'll
be in. She was bad enough before. I wouldn't have such a temper for
all the money in the Bank of England. What have you been asking her to
do?--Bother the hat!"

Eliza was brushing so vigorously that she sent Vane's hard felt hat,
which she had just snatched up from where he had placed it, flying to
the o