talk with Peters. To be quite frank, I anticipate trouble. You see, the Hermit of Baldpate doesn't approve of women—"
"Don't approve of women," cried Mrs. Norton, her green eyes flashing. "Why not, I'd like to know?"
"My dear madam," responded Mr. Magee, "only echo answers, and it but vacuously repeats, 'Why not?'. That, however, is the situation. Mr. Peters loathes the sex. I imagine that, until to-day, he was not particularly happy in the ex amples of it he encountered. Why, he has even gone so far as to undertake a book attributing all the trouble of the world to woman."
"The idiot!" cried Mrs. Norton.
"Delicious!" laughed the girl.
"I shall ask Peters to serve you," said Magee. "I shall appeal to his gallant side. But I must proceed gently. This is his first day as our cook, and you know how necessary a good first impres sion is with a new cook. I'll appeal to his better nature."
"Don't do it," cried the girl. "Don't empha size us to him in any way, or he may exercise his
