would have treated a girl
in his own mother's drawing-room, and whether he considered that less
chivalry was due to a working girl than to a woman of leisure.

Though his great opportunity was gone, he decided to do whatever
remained. After a short hesitation he descended a flight of steps at one
end of the piazza. The kitchen opened before him, large and cavernous.
Two lamps hardly served to light it. It was red tiled; round its walls
hung large, bright, copper saucepans, and on shelves of oak along its
sides were rows of dark blue and white plates and dishes.

Tucker was prepared to find the cook in tears, in which case he had a
perfectly definite idea as to what to do; but the disconcerting young
woman was moving rapidly about the kitchen, humming to herself. She held
a small but steaming saucepan in her hand, which was, as Tucker swiftly
reflected, a much better weapon than the handle of an ice-cream freezer.

"Good evening, Jane-Ellen," he said graciously.

"Good evening, sir."

She did not even look in his direction, but bent witch-like over a
cauldron.

"I wished to speak to you," he said, "about that little incident of this
morning. You must not think that I am by nature cruel or indifferent to
animals. On the contrary, I am a life member in the Society for
Prevention of Cruelty to them. I love animals." And as if to prove his
words, he put out his hand and gently pulled the ears of Willoughby, who
was asleep in a chair. Cats' ears are extraordinarily sensitive, and
Willoughby woke up and withdrew his head with a jerk.

Willoughby's mistress, on the other hand, made no reply whatsoever;
indeed it would have been impossible to be sure she had heard.

"How different she is," thought Tucker, "in the presence of a man she
really respects, and recognizes as her superior. All the levity and
coquetry disappear from her bearing."

"I was truly sorry," he went on, drawing nearer and nearer to the range,
"to have been the occasion--"

"You had better be careful, sir," she said, still without looking at
him, "these sauces sometimes boil over." And as she spoke she put a
spoon into the pan, and the next instant Tucker felt a small but burning
drop fall upon his hand. He started back with an exclamation.

"I am truly sorry, sir," she said, "to have been the occasion--"

He glanced at her sharply. Was she conscious of repeating his own
phrase? She seemed to be wholly absorbed in her task. He noticed how
prettily