rself and
her bag.

"Ze depot--how long ees eet?" she demanded, when she caught sight of
Patsy.

The accent was unmistakably French, and Patsy obligingly answered her
in her mother-tongue. "I cannot say exactly; about three--four
kilometers."

"Opportunity" dropped her bag and embraced her. "Oh!" she burst out,
volubly. "Think of Zoe Marat finding a countrywoman in this wild
land. _Moi_--I can no longer stand it; and when madame's temper goes
_pouffe_--I say, it is enough; let madame fast or cook for her
guests, as she prefer. I go!"

"_Eh, bien!_" agreed the outer Patsy, while her subjective
consciousness addressed her objective self in plain Donegal: "Faith!
this is the maddest luck--the maddest, merriest luck! If yonder
Quality House has lost one cook, 'twill be needing another; and 'tis
a poor cook entirely that doesn't hold the keys of her own pantry.
Food from Quality House needn't be choking the maddest tinker, if
it's paid for in honest work."

Having been embraced by "Opportunity," Patsy saw no reason for
wasting time in futile sympathy that might better be spent in prompt
execution. She despatched the woman to the station with the briefest
of directions and herself made straight for Quality House.

She was smiling over her appearance and the incongruities of the
situation as she rang the bell at the front door and asked for
"Madame" in her best parisien.

The maid, properly impressed, carried the message at once; and
curiosity brought madame in surprising haste to the hall, where she
looked Patsy over with frank amazement.

"Madame speak French? Ah, I thought so. Madame desires a
cook--_voila!_"

The abruptness of this announcement turned madame giddy. "How did you
know? Mine did not leave half an hour ago; there isn't another French
cook within five miles; it is unbelievable."

"It is Providence." Patsy cast her eyes devoutly heavenward.

"You have references--"

"References!" Patsy shrugged her shoulders contemptuously. "What
would madame do with references? She cannot eat them; she cannot feed
them to her guests. I can cook. Is that not sufficient?"

"But--you do not think--It is impossible that I ever employ a servant
without references. And you--you look like anything in the world but
a French cook."

"Madame is not so foolish as to find fault with the ways of
Providence, or judge one by one's clothes? Who knows--at this moment
it may be _a la mode_ in Paris for cooks to wear sailor b