Her filet, which the butcher had that morning declared he never separated from the contiguous portions for any one, but had very soon afterward cut out for her, lay in the refrigerator, awaiting her pleasure and convenience.

The vegetables had been chosen, and her thoughts were now intent upon a "sweet" which should harmonize with the other courses.
On a chair, by the door opening into the garden, sat George, the doctor's man, who was coachman, groom, and gardener, and who, having picked a basket of peas, had been requested to shell them.

By an open window, Amanda, the chambermaid, was extracting the stones from a little dish of olives.
George was working rapidly and a little impatiently.
"Madam," said he, "do you want all these peas shelled ?" La Fleur turned and looked at him with a pleasant smile.
"I want enough to surround my filet, but whether you shell enough for us to have any, depends entirely on your good will, George." "Of course I'll shell as many as you want," said he, "but I've got a lot to do this afternoon.

There is the phaeton to be washed, that I don't want the doctor to come home and find muddy yet; and I ought to have done it this morning, madam, when I was walking about the garden with you, a tellin' you what I had and a hearin' what I ought to have." "I was so glad to have you go with me, and show me everything," said La Fleur, "because I do not yet exactly understand American gardens.

It is such a nice garden, too, and you do not know how pleased I was, after you left me and I was coming to the house, to see that fine bed of aubergines.