the andirons a rack for his broiler, and set the steak to cooking. While
he heated plates, sliced bread, and brought knives, forks, and napkins,
he kept an experienced eye upon his broiler, and saw that it was
continually turned and shifted, in order to get the best results. And
presently he was laying his finished product upon the hot platter,
seasoning it, applying a rich dressing of butter, and, at last, preparing
with a flourish of the knife to carve it.

It was at this to-be-expected moment that the office-bell rang. Miss
Mathewson summoned her employer, and Burns stayed only to serve his
guests, before he left them hungrily consuming his offering and bewailing
his departure.

"Only," Martha Macauley said, "we ought to be thankful that for once he
got through an evening without being called out."

Ellen had placed her husband's portion where it would keep hot for him,
and the others had nearly finished consuming their own, when Burns came
in. He made for the fire, amid the greetings and praises of his guests,
and served his own plate with the portion remaining on the platter,
covering it liberally with the rich gravy. Then he cut and buttered two
thick slices of bread and laid them on the plate.

"Sit down, sit down, man!" urged Macauley, as his host rose to his feet.
"We're waiting to see you enjoy this magnificent result of your cookery.
It's the best steak I've had in a blue moon."

"If you'll excuse me, I'm going to take mine in the office," Burns
explained. "Can't leave my patient just yet." And he went away again,
carrying his plate, napkin over his arm.