ritish cook by something better."

"If Mrs. Sinclair has set her heart on this interesting experiment. You
may as well consent at once, Marchesa," said the Colonel, "and teach
us how to cook, and--what may be a harder task--to teach us to eat what
other aspirants may have cooked."

"If this scheme really comes off," said Sir John, "I would suggest that
the Marchesa should always be provided with a plate of her own up her
sleeve--if I may use such an expression--so that any void in the menu,
caused by failure on the part of the under-skilled or over-ambitious
amateur, may be filled by what will certainly be a chef-d'oeuvre."

"I shall back up Mrs. Sinclair's proposition with all my power," said
Mrs. Wilding. "The Canon will be in residence at Martlebridge for
the next month, and I would much rather be learning cookery under the
Marchesa than staying with my brother-in-law at Ealing."

"You'll have to do it, Marchesa," said Van der Roet; "when a new idea
catches on like this, there's no resisting it."

"Well, I consent on one condition--that my rule shall be absolute,"
said the Marchesa, "and I begin my career as an autocrat by giving
Mrs. Fothergill a list of the educational machinery I shall want, and
commanding her to have them all ready by Tuesday morning, the day on
which I declare the school open."

A chorus of applause went up as soon as the Marchesa ceased speaking.

"Everything shall be ready," said Mrs. Fothergill, radiant with delight
that her offer had been accepted, "and I will put in a full staff of
servants selected from our three other establishments."

"Would it not be as well to send the cook home for a holiday?" said the
Colonel. "It might be safer, and lead to less broth being spoilt."

"It seems," said Sir John, "that we shall be ten in number, and I would
therefore propose that, after an illustrious precedent, we limit our
operations to ten days. Then if we each produce one culinary poem a day
we shall, at the end of our time, have provided the world with a hundred
new reasons for enjoying life, supposing, of course, that we have no
failures. I propose, therefore, that our society be called the 'New
Decameron.'"

"Most appropriate," said Miss Macdonnell, "especially as it owes its
origin to an outbreak of plague--the plague in the kitchen."

The First Day

On the Tuesday morning the Marchesa travelled down to the "Laurestinas,"
where she found that Mrs. Fothergill had been as good