'Of course neither of us noticed it,' said I, 'for Isadore did not
serve us with any of the things he gave to Rounders. And as for the
latter discovering that he was eating his food raw, he had no idea that
such was the case. He supposed he was eating what we ate, and therefore
did not like to say anything about it.'

"'But I do not understand!' cried Anita. 'How could any one eat things
and not know they were uncooked?'

"'You do not understand,' said I, 'because you do not comprehend the
deep and wonderful art of Isadore. Baxter tried to explain some of it to
me as he heard it from the lips of the chef himself, but I do not know
enough of kitchen magic to understand it. As Isadore waited on us, he
was able to bring us well-prepared food, and to give Mr. Rounders
something very different, but which looked just like that we had. Even
his coffee was served in a cup heated hot in the oven, while the coffee
itself had merely been warmed. I cannot explain all these uncooked
meals, and if you want to know more you must ask Isadore himself. But
Baxter told me that spices and condiments must have been used with
wonderful effect, and that the poor man must have lived mostly on
biscuits. Isadore said that all his life he would laugh when he thought
of Mr. Rounders trying to eat a chicken croquette the inside of which
was perfectly raw, while the outside smoked, and looking at the same
time with astonishment at you and me as we quietly ate what seemed to be
exactly like the thing he had on his plate.'

"'But, Harold,' said Anita, 'that was a shameful way to treat our
guest!'

"'That is what Baxter said to Isadore; but the cook excused himself by
stating that all this happened in a cot, in a dear little cot, where
everything was different from everything else in the world, and where he
had tried to make you and me happy, and where he himself had been so
happy, especially when he saw Mr. Rounders trying to eat chicken
croquettes. He was also so pleased with the life at the cot that he is
going to have one of his own when he goes back to Alsace, which will be
shortly, as he has made enough to satisfy his wants, and he intends to
retire there and be happy in a cot.'

"Anita reflected for a few moments, and then she said: 'I think life in
a cot might be very happy indeed--for Isaac.'"

With this the Mistress of the House rose from her chair.

"Is that at all?" exclaimed her daughter. "There are several things I
want to know."