ph lately responsible for the
preparation of our food?"

Daphne nodded.

"I told her about Francois, and that, as he was here, he would help her
with dinner to-night. I said he was very clever, and all that sort of
thing, and that I wanted her to show him what she was cooking, and
listen to any suggestions he had to make."

"I suppose you added that he couldn't speak a word of English," said her
husband.

"Be quiet," said Daphne. "Besides, he can. Several words. Any way, she
didn't seem over-pleased, but, as Pauline's coming on Monday, that
didn't worry me. So I sent her away, and rang up Fitch and told him he
must fix the Frenchman up for the night."

"Did he seem over-pleased?"

"I didn't wait to hear. I just rang off quick. Then I went up to dress.
The next thing I knew was that they'd tried to murder each other, and
that Camille had bitten William, and Nobby'd bitten Camille. I don't
suppose we shall ever know exactly what happened."

So far as we had been able to gather from the butler, who had
immediately repaired to Daphne's room for instructions, and was
labouring under great excitement, my sister's orders had been but
grudgingly obeyed. Mrs. Chapel had been ill-tempered and obstructive,
and had made no attempt to disguise her suspicion of the _chef_. The
latter had consequently determined to be as nasty as the circumstances
allowed, had eyed her preparations for dinner with a marked contempt,
and had communed visibly and audibly with himself in a manner which it
was impossible to mistake. Finally he had desired to taste the soup
which she was cooking. Poor as his English was, his meaning was
apparent, but the charwoman had affected an utter inability to
understand what he said. This had so much incensed the Frenchman that
the other servants had intervened and insisted on Mrs. Chapel's
compliance with his request. With an ill grace she snatched the lid from
the saucepan....

Everything was now in train for a frightful explosion. In bitterness the
fuse had been laid, the charge of passion was tamped, the detonator of
spleen was in position. Only a match was necessary....

Camille Francois, however, preferred to employ a torch.

After allowing the fluid to cool, the Frenchman--by this time the
cynosure of sixteen vigilant eyes--introduced a teaspoonful into his
mouth....

The most sanguine member of his audience was hardly expecting him to
commend the beverage. Mrs. Chapel herself must have felt ins