looking
right and left as she walked. She wished very much to see Mike, and
presently she had that pleasure. He had just come out of the barnyard,
and was closing the gate. She hurried toward him, for, although somewhat
porpoise-built, she was vigorous and could walk fast.

"I am so pleased to see you, Michael," she said. "I have brought you
something which I think you will like," and, opening a black bag which
she carried on her arm, she produced a package wrapped in brown paper.

"This," she said, opening the wrapping, "is a pie--a veal and 'am
pie--such as you would not be likely to find in this country, unless you
got me to make it for you. I baked it early this morning, intending to
come here, and being sure you would like it; and you needn't have any
scruples about taking it. I bought everything in it with my own money. I
always do that when I cook little dishes for people I like."

The pie had been brought as a present for Mrs. Drane, but, feeling that
it was highly necessary to propitiate the only person on the place who
might be of use to her, La Fleur decided to give the pie to Mike.

The face of the colored man beamed with pleasure.

"Veal and ham. Them two things ought to go together fust rate, though
I've never eat 'em in that way. An' in a pie, too; that looks mighty
good. An' how do ye eat it, Mrs.--'scuse me, ma'am, but I never can
rightly git hold of yer name."

"No wonder, no wonder," said the other; "it is a French name. My second
husband was a Frenchman. A great cook, Michael,--a Frenchman. But the
English of the name is flower, and you can call me Mrs. Flower. You can
surely remember that, Michael."

Mike grinned widely.

"Oh, yes indeed, ma'am," said he; "no trouble 'bout that, 'specially when
I think what pie crust is made of, an' that you's a cook."

"Oh, it isn't that kind of flower," said La Fleur, laughing; "but it
doesn't matter a bit,--it sounds the same. And now, Michael, you must
warm this and eat it for your dinner. Have you a fire in your house?"

"I can make one in no time," said Mike. "Then you think I'd better not
let the cook warm it for me?"

"You are quite right," said La Fleur. "I don't believe she's half as good
a cook as you are, Michael, for I've heard that all colored people have a
knack that way; and like as not she'd burn it to a crisp."

Wrapping up the pie and handing it to the delighted negro, La Fleur
proceeded to business, for she felt she had no time to lo