their aprons, to make sure they were clean, and gave him their hands
too. The cook said, "If any one of us goes from it, this kitchen will be
too hot to hold her."

"Nobody will go from it, cook," said the doctor. "I'm not afraid of
that; and now since you have promised me, out of your own good hearts,
I'll try and be even with you. If she knows nothing of it by the tenth
of March, five guineas to every man and woman in this kitchen. You shall
see that, if you can be kind, we can be grateful."

He then hurried away. He found Mr. Lusignan in the drawing-room, and
told him all this. Lusignan was fluttered, but grateful. "Ah, my good
friend," said he, "this is a hard trial to two old men, like you and
me."

"It is," said Philip. "It has shown me my age. I declare I am trembling;
I, whose nerves were iron. But I have a particular contempt for
servants. Mercenary wretches! I think Heaven inspired me to talk to
them. After all, who knows? perhaps we might find a way to their hearts,
if we did not eternally shock their vanity, and forget that it is, and
must be, far greater than our own. The women gave me their tears,
and the men were earnest. Not one hand lay cold in mine. As for your
kitchen-maid, I'd trust my life to that girl. What a grip she gave
me! What strength! What fidelity was in it! My hand was never GRASPED
before. I think we are safe for a few days more."

Lusignan sighed. "What does it all come to? We are pulling the trigger
gently, that is all."

"No, no; that is not it. Don't let us confound the matter with similes,