emain standing much longer.
Misgivings arose within him as he ascended the staircase, which seemed to
sway as he avoided the broken treads. But the sight of the bedroom he was
to occupy, furnished with such furniture and such a bed, all spotlessly
clean and polished, sent him into the seventh heaven of delight. Here he
could read and write undisturbed for as long as he chose to stay. Surely
pleasant surprises must be in store for one in every way in such
surroundings as these!

It was not long before he got one.

'Will Monsieur require anything to be cooked for him to-night?' inquired
the trim hostess.

It was rather late and our bookman was disinclined to seek a restaurant.
Besides, he was anxious to explore his lodging before it got too dark. An
omelette would be delicious, provided she could make one properly.

'Eggs, perhaps, and tea, with bread and butter'--could she turn the eggs
into an omelette?

'Why certainly,' with a merry laugh, 'of course--_I can prepare eggs in
more than sixty ways._'

To say that our book-hunter started would be to put it mildly. A certain
title-page instantly rose before his eyes. There was only one way in
which anybody could possibly learn to cook eggs in sixty different ways,
and that was by studying the 'Pastissier Francois.' Without the slightest
doubt the hostess possessed a copy, and he was at last to look upon the
tiny volume that he had sought for so long. But as she seemed so proud of
her achievement, could she be induced to part with the precious tome?
These and many other kindred thoughts passed rapidly through his mind as
he repeated slowly 'en plus de soixante facons?'

She laughed again. Ah yes, but she couldn't repeat them _d'abord_, she
would have to _refer to her book_.

He had difficulty in controlling his voice sufficiently to inquire what
her book was.

Oh, it was just a little book which her mother had given her, a little
book of _la cuisine_. Could he see it? Why certainly, but it could not
possibly interest monsieur, it was only a common little book, and dirty.

Ah, as usual it would be soiled, perhaps badly, for it was evidently
still in constant use; but so long as it were complete one might possibly
be able to clean it. What delightful thoughts and anticipations passed
through his mind as the hostess slowly descended the rickety stairs to
fetch her treasure! At last he had found it, and just in the very sort of
house and town where he had always expe