cause."

"Not another day, Eliza," came from the back kitchen. "No, no, not if
they went down on their bended knees and begged me to stop."

"What, amongst all this broken crockery?" cried the doctor. "Hold your
tongue, you stupid woman, and send Bruff to ask his wife to come and
help clear up all this mess."

Cook, invisible in the back, uttered a defiant snort.

"Ah!" shouted the doctor. "Am I master here. See to a fire there at
once, and I should like one of those delicious omelettes for my
breakfast, cook. Let's have breakfast as soon as you can. There, no
more words. Let's be very thankful that you were neither of you badly
scalded. You heard what I said, Bruff?"

"Yes, sir, of course."

"Then go and fetch your wife directly. Cook will give you some
breakfast here."

Bruff scurried off, and Eliza entered the kitchen, wiping her eyes.

"Bit of a fright for you, eh, my girl?" said the doctor, taking her
hand, and feeling her pulse. "Well done! Brave little woman. You are
as calm as can be again. You're not going to run away at a moment's
notice."

"Oh, no, sir," cried Eliza eagerly.

"Nor cook neither," said the doctor aloud. "She's too fond of us to go
when we are in such a state as this."

There was a sniff now from the back kitchen and the doctor gave Vane a
humorous look, as much as to say, "I can manage cook better than your
aunt."

"There, my dear," he said, "it's of no use for you to cry over spilt
milk. Better milk the cow again and be more careful. See what is
broken by and by, and then come to me for a cheque. Vane, my boy, send
a letter up at once for another boiler."

"But surely, dear--" began Aunt Hannah.

"I am not about to have the boiler set there again? Indeed I am. Vane
is not going to be beaten because we have had an accident through
trusting others to do what we ought to have done for ourselves. There,
come and let's finish dressing; and cook!"

"Yes, sir," came very mildly from the back kitchen, in company with the
crackling of freshly-lit wood.

"You'll hurry the breakfast all you can."

"Yes, sir."

"Don't feel any the worse now, do you?"

"No, sir, only a little ketchy about the throat."

"Oh, I'll prescribe for that."

"Thank you, sir, but it will be better directly," said cook hastily.

"After you've taken my dose, make yourself a good strong cup of tea.
Come along, my dear. Now, Vane, your face wants washing horribly, my
boy. Hannah, my d