d be willin' to make me a punkin pie, same
kind as Queen Victoria has in the fall of the year."

La Fleur beamed on him most graciously.

"I will do that gladly, Michael: you may count on me to do that. And I
will give you other things that you like. Wait till we see, wait till we
see. Good-day, Michael; I must be going now, or the doctor will be kept
waiting for his dinner. Where's my cabby?"

"Mr. Griffing has drove round to the front of the house, mum," said Mike.

"Just like the stupid American," muttered the old woman as she hurried
away, "as if I'd get in at the front of the house."

Andy Griffing talked a good deal on the drive back to Thorbury, but La
Fleur heard little and answered less. She was in a state of great mental
satisfaction, and during her driver's long descriptions of persons and
places, she kept saying to herself, "It couldn't be better than that. It
couldn't be better than that."

This mental expression she applied to Mr. Haverley, whom she considered
an extraordinarily fine-looking young man; to the broad acres and fine
barn; to the fact that the Dranes were living with him; to the
probability that he would fall in love with the charming Miss Cicely, and
make her mistress of the estate; and to the strong possibility, that
should this thing happen, she herself would be the cook of Cobhurst, and
help her young mistress put the establishment on the footing that her
station demanded.

"It couldn't be better than that," she muttered over and over again as
she busied herself about the Tolbridge dinner, and she even repeated the
expression two or three times after she went to bed.

CHAPTER XXVIII

THE GAME IS CALLED

In her notions and schemes regarding the person and estate of Ralph
Haverley, the good cook, La Fleur, lacked one great advantage possessed
by her rival planner and schemer Miss Panney; for she whose cause was
espoused by the latter old woman was herself eager for the fray and
desirous of victory, whereas Cicely Drane had not yet thought of marrying
anybody, and outside of working hours was devoting herself to getting all
the pleasure she could out of life, not regarding much whether it was her
mother or Miriam or Mr. Haverley who helped her get it. Moreover, the
advantages of co-residence, which La Fleur naturally counted upon, were
not so great as might have been expected; for Mrs. Drane, having
perceived that Ralph was fond of the society of young ladies to a degree
w