"Cook-General."

Evening Post, Volume LXXXIII, Issue 77, 30 March 1912, Page 10

" Cook-General."

""""' By EVELYN EVEEETa'-GBEEN, Author of " The Iron Box," " Sister," eto. |AU Bigbtß.Reßerved:}

"Cook-general with housekeeper over, for bachelor gentleman in small house. Wage £20. All found. Apply Housekeeper. . . ." Molly Dare had been scanning with 1 •agery wistful eyes that column in the paper where governesses, companions and secretaries were advertised for. How often had she scanned these notices before! How many weary journeys had iheu^taken.! How. imany -hours had she spent penning laborious letters to which no answer was vouchsafed ! ■ - Nobody wanted her ! And her money was almost gonel Idly her eyes roving down another column rested for a moment upon these words ; and she eat reading them listlessly at first, and then with a «lowly quickening interest. ."Cook-general!" What did that mean? Under a housekeeper — not ons of a troop of servants. A housekeeper getting old perhaps. Molly liked old ■■persons ; and how familiar she was with the cry of employers — "servants are so difficult to find !" "Other girls have done it before me!" said Molly, speaking half aloud, "other ladies have gone through these devastating experiences, and have taken to service. Why not I? — under a housekeeper. That is the saving clause. 'It's not the work I dread. . It would be the companionship — ■ though perhaps that would not be worse than what I have gone through of late. Hampsteac l too ! That sounds attractive. Why not go and see? I declare I will. I can but fail — and I am getting used to failure now." Molly stood suddenly up ; 6he surveyed herself in the small glajse of that tiny " bed-sitting-room " which so soon would be beyond her means. She was wearing a perfectly plaiii black dress j that was all right. But she shook down the masses of her- soft curly hair and arranged it with a centre parting, drawing it into a neat knot behind. Then donning it, black sailor hat, and a pair of black gloves, she looked at her little store of money, took out a few coins, and started off upon her quest. It was not an easy house to find ; for it lay on the outskirts of the Heath — a low-browed cottage-like place, in a bit of tangled garden, which seemed to have escaped the hand of the modernising builder. Molly's heart leaped at sight of flowers in the garden a-nd the sound of bird-song in the air. And. 4s she stood looking with bright and eager eyes, the house-door opened, and * young woman flounced down, the path.with her, nose very high in the air. . She. •was muttering scornfully and angrily to henself, and in the doorway of thehouse stood a -quaint old-fashioned figure in mob cap and ample skirts and apron, towards whom Molly's heart instantly warmed. If that was the housekeeper — . "O, please don't shut the door. Do please -let me .speak to you a minute. I have come about the advertisement. Do you want a cook-general-?" , " The master thought I did,'- answered/ the old woman, whose, russet apple face was set in lines of unwonted severity, " and J said as I would see. -But there, I'd sooner do the whple work of the place- myself -than be bothered -with such a^ set/ of eluts, and- hustiies. I've had five of .'em already;;, and I'm sick of the business.' . «■ >•,'•'■<'- • .< • * •"•Ahi', : b'ut'pleafcri;will yoriMet me see 'Hifnl'couM'nel|)^onr'.rndeed, I'm not a ~'sluti, or-* haesy-V' »?*' • ' - • (^oii-'toy'-dda^'bi*- Tfda are a lady ; f®&'^th& Ky^jibbym the voice of you ! 1-M& Ta W4kought of a ladytefee^Nf^; ■&*!&&>». v i j No, maeea. 1 wouldnt be a lady-, help for anything. I'm just fit for cookgeneral — only that. Won't you let • tae ! eee^'if I «_hould,not do? I want a pla^eso badJy — truly I do!" •• ; • The old eyes were fixed doubtfully! upon the girl's fair, sweet face, with th> wistfully appealing yet smiling blue eyes. : The door opened somewhat wider, and Molly found herself inside a quaint little 1 panelled lobby, and followed her guide through a awing door, which led by a f ■ shoft flagged passage into the cosiest* t of kitchens, with an outlook to the behind. / • ■"•*'*' Now, sit down by the fire, my dear, /-< and tell" me what you want to say, and' ••why- you have come out here to-day." '. "I've come because my father's deacj. '""I never knew mv mother; ami my ' money* is nearly gone ; and I must do something — and nobody wants me 'anywhere ! I was born in England, but I lived in Canada all the time that I remember of my childhood and early girl-, hood. Do' you understand' what that means? 1 swept and cooked and 'did chores* all round the place. Sometimes I ha 4 d six or eight men to 'do for' single-handed. Then when I was twenty j- nay) father got suddenly rich; and I had a good time. We travelled and came to Europe ; but we moved about' so much ■ that we never made friends or struck tOots. Then something happened on Wall-street. It does, you know; and then whole families go under. My , father had a stroke of paralysis when the' " J new6'fiam«; and {hen , he died. A irian he did business with was kind to me; -looked into things and got what he could - out of the smaslu It paid all our bills — we had been living rather grandly — and left me about £50 over. I thought that would last me till I got work. But I didn't get any. I have none of the qualifications — no certificates, no 'references' — no nothing ! That's my story. ;The man I spok^ of before will tell you f thai my story is' true, ii you caie to write to him. But as for how I can , work — if you would only give me- a month's trial,- I think I could satisfy you." The old woman's bright eyes were fixed "lipon the girl's eager face. The kindly, look in the shrewd eyes behind the spectacles encouraged the girl to proceed,- and now she added suddenly, , " Coining here was just an inspiration ! . I had wondered about a servant s place ; I t»ut the tEoiight of the company put me off ! The hussy element you know — and sharing' n room with v hussy, and the manners of the table! You see for several years now I have been a rich man's daughter. But when it said 'under a housekeeper— cook-general,' then' I knew that there would be no companion hussy ! That brought me to the scratch. And when I saw you first— in that dear little garden — shooing out a hussy of the first magnitude — my heart warmed to you. I can keep the garden in order, too. I • should love it. I'm not a bit afraid of work. Am I blowing my trumpet too long and loud!" "Well, my dear, I donltsee- why I should not give you a trial. I havenad three days of applications from hussies, and I like your face, though I had never thought of such a thing as having a lady here. Do yon want to come at once; for the master scolds me every flay when he comes back and finds me doing all the work still. I had a fall, and hurt iriy -knee". He has wanted me to have help" before ; but I stood out against ifc I was his nurse, and "I've kept house for him ever since his poor mother died. He's a very clever gentleman, travels and writes books. He's out at the li- ■ braries and museums and places most of the day; but her comes horn© to dine, and sits up late writing. Perhaps you've ;Vniaybo heard the name of Mr. Eoger !\V*aH3rttarfc£-i- ' " ~ " " "'" '

Molly leaned suddenly forward to tie up her shoe-] ace. Her face was rather Hushed when she raised it. <. "Of course T know that name," she said. "I've read some of his books. "They. are wonderful " **So ihey are, my dear, I'm sure; but a dfkl too clever for me. Well, I'll take you on a month's trial, and be glad to feel something settled. Ana if you want to corue at onee — " "Indeed I do — as quick as ever you'll let- me. I'd like just to run back and settle up, and get my things, and come straight back in time to cook the dinner for you." "My dear, could you really do that?" "Indeed I could — and I'd love to!" /'Well then you shall. I'll take the risk ot having you like that; for I believe -you've told me the truth, and the master is vexed that nobody comes ■ — men are that impatient ! So go back for your things, and 'come in at once. I'll have your little room ready : it is but an attic, yet it's a pretty look out from the window. And what is your name, I've not asked 'that." "Mary — Mary — Read. No,> I won't tell you a fib ; at .isn't really Read, but I call myself Read, for it's just the same letters as my real name, and I preferred — just now — " "Mary Read does very well, , my dear. And J think we shall get on together, and I shall like to tell the master when he gets home to-night that the cookgeneral has- come and is at work!" The "cook-general," in a white cap and apron, both of ample dimensions, knocked up a most dainty little dinner before the admiring eyes of the housekeeper, comfortably, seated in her easy chair with her foet on a footstooL But it was the old woman who carried in the trays to the dining-room, and brought word of the master's satisfaction, at the accomplishments of the new maid s and Molly, with shining eyes and a flushed and happy face, wasned up and set to rights, and spenjb a happy evening burnishing coppers, arid making hot cakes after' a recipe of her own, and listening intently to long and discursive- histories of the Vansittart family in "general, and "Master Roger" in particular. That night she, slept happily in a little camp' beef, under a sloping roof, with moonshine' and fresh air caressing her; and she rpse with the lark, lighthearted, and gay, to -commence a systematic cleaning of the little house, which tyid suffered some eclipse of its .habitual spotlessness during the disabilities of the housekeeper. < . • ".My deaf, you are a treasure!" wa« the 'gratified exclamation of that functionary when *he descended to survey all that had been done. You must have been up with the sutt " "I was. .lttis' f such a joy to see the sun without 'a mist of smoke or a criescross of chimney-stacks and sky-scrap-ers I have done all the rooms except the master's study. I only swept there. I was not sure if I might do more than that there." "Quite, right, my dear. Nobody touches the master's papers but myself ; and I have to be very careful. I'll go in ana dust round a bit, but hia papers 'are terribly precious; it's the only thing as really puts him out if they aro messed about. 0, there's his door opening now — " Molly fled to her own regions, and with a rosy face began preparing the breakfast, with the addition of corn cake and honey, after a fashion sne had learned the Atlantic. !'The master is real pleased with you, Mary," was the report brought back by Mrs. ,'Bundle. "He cays, you will, make him' fat and greedy if you gft on as you have begun. Suppose you go in and clear away the things. ' I dare say he will ...like to have a look at you 1 ." But"" ilolly f had managed io smudge , her facVratjnierV badly, and excused herself ,oh thai' "ground. In' fact, Mrs. Bundle's.- only , cause' of complaint respecting ihe'r ■^copk-ffeneral" ;was ,thie unlucky. )haoit of Veiling her lace, over her* culinary ..woI'K. Considering how scrupulously I .c lean "she was in every other capacity, it was, a little,- vexatious that her/face'; was. habitually streaked , and - smutty/ po ,that ;Roger Vansittart, who occasionally' .ia'ught eight ot her, came' to' speak of her as their "matchless (Jindeiella'.'V I ', . For the little household had benefited considerably' by" the--' addition of the "cook-general."- Her talents seemed to be many' andf Varied.- Not only was the . houBW keptt spotiees, as before Mrs Bundle's" accident', it, began to take on an aspect -of 'daintiness arid exquisite finish far moi** 1 - difficult to define, yet abundantly visible to the sensitive vision 'of „the master, who combined the artistic perception with the literary creative gift. The little garden outside, cleared qf weeds and Tendered a charming domain of rustic culture, supplied flowers for the table and f or ' the study. There was no drawing Toom to this house; ■the best room was the master's study, ana the little, off ßhoot, which naturally would have gone by that name, was filled with superfluous books, and with bits ot dim old furniture that' had been Mrs. Vansittart s, and from which her «pn , nad nover parted. It was Molly's delight to make this little dim room also look bright with flowers, to clean its windows and hang fresh curtains there; to transform it into some semblance of a lady's bower, albeit no, lady ever made use 6f it, or was likely to, save on those rare' occasions when she suffered herself to rest for a few' minutes upon the window-seat which her hands had cushioned, and look forth into the little garden dreaming — dreaming—. The bright little kitchen where the bulk of her time was spent was notably" brighter for her presence there. Everything which could shine 6hon© and twinkled ; all the boards were white with scrubbing; kitchen meal's were daintily set out and graced by flowers. And in the afternoons; when no work pressed it became the custom for the two women — old .and .young — to sit at the open door with their needlework, renovating the master's), wardrobe, or « anything about the house which required it; whilst later .on still, when all these matters had been thoroughly seen to, Molly began ■to iread aloud to Mrs. Bnndle those books she had seen 'in 'the making, and' which were incomprehensible to her until Molly made all things clear by her lucid explanations and supplementary information. Toe the girl had known and loved the lands where he had travelled ; she was something of a linguist, and many of the experiences he recounted had been hers also in measure during five happy breathless years of travel and adventure. The old woman came to delight in these readings and talks. She seemed to see "her boy's" life spread out before her eyes ; ana to some of his thrilling adventures she listened with eyes wide and lips parted and pale. > On one decasion he gave a brief account of a scare of fire in a packed building, and the scene of terror which ensued. Molly ■ read the whole account from end to end; but then she started up/ in. a strange excitement, the book falling unheeded to the floor; in her eyes a strange light burned. i. "0, but he has not told the half— not one half. lie has taid nothing about the splendid part he. played himself!" "My dear, how do yjju'kn&w— tell me

"He was there — he leaped down upon the fetage. He Ihundered out to the people to keep their seats. For a moment they did. Ho stood there so caljii, to strong, so splendid ! But some fool in the 'gallery set up the yell again — 'Fire! Fire!' Then there was no holding -the people! "It was awful. And though some men kept- their heads, it was awful to see the rest fighting, tearing, .trampling — and there was a girl — she was In her seat. She had heard him say, 'Keep your seats!' — so she obeyedl But the people she was with stampeded— she was left, altfne— -and there came a great mob of men like some huge wave — and she knew they would trample her to death! And then something happened ! He was there — standing over her — fighting, them back — I can't tell you juet , what happened after that. But he saved her. Later on he carried her out. O lots of women had been trampled to death, and many, many more hurt; but Mr. Vansittart saved that girl — " "My dear, how do you know? 1 ' "0 — I—l1 — 1 knew the girl, I was \a the place when it happened — at the same hotel. So I heard about it." "Did they ever meet each other afterwards?" "Yes, on.cc or twice — a few times, I believe," Molly had her back to the old woman, 6taring out of the window. 'But the girl was just a traveller, and was soon on the move again. Her father took her away from the place as soon as she was, recovered enough. Very likely — they haye — never met any more. Is the world a very big, or a very small place, do you think t Iso often wonder ; but I can never quite niako up my mind." Perhaps If Molly had been less moved herself, she might have remarked that Mrs. Bundle was rather remarkably quiet for the next few hours; indeed for sev eral days she 6eemed slightly absorbed and silent. But then, as Molly afterwards told herself, this was accounted for by coming illness. For, summer warmth notwithstanding, the old soul managed to take a chill, and for a few days was confined to her bed, Molly waiting on her hand and foot, and declining all help save that of a neighbour who came daily to do the rougher work of the house. Roger Vansittart was gTeatly concerned, and held councils daily with the cook-general, whose face was smuttier than ever, so much so that but for fear of hurting her feelings he would have suggested a wash up before tho interview. But, she was simply worth her weight in gold at this juncture : her sick-room cookery left nothing to be desired; yet everything' done for her master was accomplished with its customary finish. Roger dined at his club to save her trouble ; but always ,found a dainty little dish, of sandwiches^ or cold savoury eggs 1 , or some such appetising trifle upon his study table on his return; while the house was kept like a new pin, and he began to settle that the cook-general must shortly have a rise of wages ; she did so many things that were not "in the bond." There came a day upon which Roger came home quite unexpectwlly in tne middle of the afternoon. He found Mrs. Bundle alone in the kitchen, enjoying a fragrant cup of tea and her sense of convalescence by the cosy red fire; but of "Cinderella" there was nothing to be seen. "Poor dear, she had a little headache, and' I took the liberty, Master Roger — I mean sir, to send her to the. little book room to get a nap if she could. Her own room under the roof is so hot of an afternoon ; and so is the kitchen, except for an old body like nie. She put everything ready for tea, and I said I'd call her; but if she's sleeping — " "Yes, to be sure; let'lier sleep, poor hard-working little Cinderella ! I'll have tea with' you myself, Mother Bundle, and she shall have ecme. fresh when she wakes up. 1 " ' ;*; * ' And as they sat at tea together the old woman began, — ~ . , . c ' . "Master Roger, I've * something on my mind to tell you about- . our cookgeneral. "I thdrijt /tell you -a# fir£t, }e&\ it should worry you, besides I didn't' know if she would stop. But I think you ought to be told now. That girl ife a lady born.4' "With that smutty Cinderella face?" "It's only smutty when she goes to ta^k to you, sir; that's wnat I've come to see all these weeks. At other times she's as fresh and sweet and pretty as a flower — and good all through besides." And Mrs. Bundle set- forth to tell the whole story of the engagement of the cook-general — and a good deal else as well. Half an hour later, Roger Vansittart, having softly entered the room which awakened withiD him strange, sweet, and tender memories, found himself standing dumbfounded before a sleeping girl, whose pale face, faintly rose tinted and pure, looked indeed like a lovely flower in his eyes, the long dark lashes the eyes which he knew to be of a lovely violet blue. Suddenly those eyes unclosed. The lashes swept upwards, the cap which had fallen from the rippling golden-brown hair lay unregarded between them. "Molly !" She started up; the blood rushed to her cheeks. She was all in a quiver of bewilderment and amaze — surely, surely it was all a dream. ! "Molly ! Molly — have I found you— at last. No, I will not call you Miss Dare. You have been Molly all these long years in my thoughts. Molly — why did you leave me — without a word 1 — of farewell even ? And I had just told you that 1 /loved you !" "It was my father — he had heard that — you were married. It made him angry—" "I was never married. ' It might have been a cousin of mine of, the same name. Molly, did you belieVe it ?" "I did not know what to believe. I was only twenty-one. I thought — perhaps — if you were not — you would follow us." "After such a slap in the face as that? But, Molly, it is not after all the past that matter's! 'It' is the present which is* ours — and the future which we mu6t grasp. Little Molly — let me ask my question once again. 1 love you with alf my heart and soul — as I loved you from the moment I held you •in my arms Wondering whether we should win through alive. Molly, can you love me?" She held out two sliaking hands : but in her face there was a* rapture of joy and of love. "Oh, Roger!" It was all she could 'articulate for a very good reason: When her lips were her own once more she asked her question. ' • i "How can, you fancy such a dirtyfaced Ciriderella !" "To think that a cap and apron and some smudges can make such a change in any face. What asses men are — and blind at that." ■ -"The prettiest hair in the world, my darling !" "But down on each side of my face. It makes such a difference. Oh, I have been so careful — and frightened !" "To think that you knew all the- time, you little monster — and never let me know 1". . , . , "Sometimes I thought you must know ; and that you had left off remembering me !" After that speech she had to beg for mercy, \ and was too breathless to attempt more. It was he who led her to the door of the kitchen, and holding 1 her with his arm gave forth his news to the beaming Mrs. Bundle. When she had «ot her breath after her "Deaiy mes !" and "Well ,to be surcs !" it was she who voiced one item of the situation which' had not occurred to either of the other pajr> •• ~ ' ■ "•" t

"It's all \ery well, sir, for you, as have got a wife. But how in the- world am I to get another Mich cook-general as you have gene and robbed me of?"