always be looking in. Do you mind?" [Pg 51] [Pg 51] "Indeed we don't," said Mary. "Do we, chef?" Chef laid a finger to his lips. It was no time for talk. "Never disturb a sleeping child or a cooking egg," was one of his maxims. "I knew that I should be happy here," said Mr. Langham. "I am." Whenever he had a chance he gazed at Mary. It was her face in the row of six that had lured him out of all his habits and made him feel that the camp offered him a genuine chance for happiness. To find that she presided over the kitchen had filled his cup to the brim. But when he remembered that he was fat and fond of good things to eat and drink, his heart sank. He determined that he would eat but three eggs. They were, however, prepared in a way that was quite new to him, and in the determined effort to discern the ingredients and the method he ate five. "There is something very keen about your Adirondack air," he explained guiltily. But Mary had warmed to him. Her heart and her reputation were involved in the cuisine. She knew that the better you feed people the more they love you. She was not revolted by Mr. Langham's appetite. She felt that even a canary[Pg 52] of a man must have fallen before the temptation of those eggs. [Pg 52] They were her own invention. And chef had executed them to the very turn of perfection. Almost from the moment of his arrival, then, Mr. Samuel Langham began to eat his way into the heart of the eldest Miss Darling. In culinary matters a genuine intimacy sprang up between them. They exchanged ideas. They consulted. They compared menus. They mastered the contents of the late Mr. Darling's cellars. Mr. Langham chose Lone House for his habitation. He liked the little balcony that thrust out over the lake between the two pine-trees. And by the time that his guests were due to arrive, he had established himself, almost, in the affections of the entire family.
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