raid you won't have very much celery this
year." They passed through the wicket into the farther end of
Evelyn's domain, which part projected on the valley, and there they
came upon two more children, one of whom was blind.

"This poor child--what work can he do?"

"You'd be surprised; and his ear is excellent. We're thinking of
putting him to piano-tuning."

"We are thinking?"

"Yes, Owen; these little boys live here with me in the new wing. I'm
afraid they are not very comfortable there, but they don't complain."

"Seven little crippled boys, whom you look after!"

"Six--the seventh is my servant's son; he is delicate, but he isn't a
cripple. We don't call him her son here, she is nominally his aunt."

"You look after these boys, and go up to London to earn their
living?"

"I earn sufficient to run my little establishment."

As they returned to the cottage, one of the boys thrust his spade
into the ground.

"Please, miss, may we stay up a little longer this evening? It won't
be dark till nine or half-past, miss."

"Yes, you can stay up." And Owen and Evelyn went into the house. "I
do hope, Owen, that Eliza's cooking will not seem to you too utterly
undistinguished."

"You have forgotten, Evelyn, that I have been living on hunter's fare
for the last two years."

At that moment Eliza put the soup-tureen on the table.

"Why, the soup is excellent! An excellent soup, Eliza!"

"There is a chicken coming, Sir Owen, and Miss Innes told me to be
sure to put plenty of butter on it before putting it into the oven,
that that was the way you liked it cooked."

"I am glad you did, Eliza; the buttering of the chicken is what we
always overlook in England. We never seem to understand the part that
good butter plays in cooking; only in England does any one talk of
such a thing as cooking-butter." And he detained Eliza, who fidgeted
before him, thinking of the vegetables waiting in the kitchen, of
what a strange man he was, while he told her that his cook, a
Frenchman, always insisted on having his butter from France, costing
him, Owen, nearly three shillings a pound.

"Law, Sir Owen!" And Eliza went back to the kitchen to fetch her
vegetables, and Evelyn laughed, saying:

"You have succeeded in impressing her."

"You have cooked the chicken excellently well, Eliza, and the butter
you used must have been particularly good," he said, when the servant
returned with the potatoes and brussels sprouts. But he was a