Molly noticed, as she returned to the parlor, that Mrs. Merit was standing at the door of the house she had pointed out as Mrs. Lennox’s; doubtless she had gone to report her visit. Molly went from her visitor to the kitchen. She had ordered in the morning a porterhouse steak and a dozen oysters on the half shell. As the butcher was also fishmonger, he had no objection to send so few, and she had impressed on him that both were to be sent after five, and the oysters opened at the house. She now told Marta, when they should come, to put the oysters into the ice-box at once, and went to assure herself that the fire was made up and would be ready by five o’clock to cook. She found, as she had feared, that Marta had forgotten, and the fire was at that stage of intense brightness which gives place to a mass of dead white ash a little later, but would quickly burn up with fresh fuel. “How fortunate I came out, Marta; red as this fire is, in half an hour it would have been near out. Put a little coal on; when it is lighted well, not before, you can rake out the ashes and put on more coal, but not too much.” As she spoke she opened all the drafts. She meant to have a ragout of the rougher part of the lamb—the neck piece—as a second dish; if Harry did not care for it at dinner, it would make a very savory one for breakfast. She cut it up into neat pieces; there was about a pound and a half of meat, very lean, and, properly treated, the tenderest in the whole sheep. “If I had to pay the same for this part of the lamb as for the loin, I should still prefer it for boiling and stewing,” she said to Marta, “but so few people will believe it. Get me one onion and a carrot, and prepare them. I wish I had some canned peas, they would be such an addition; but I have not half the little things in store yet that I need.” Molly was making this ragout, not that it was needed for dinner so much, although it made variety and a better-seeming table, but her chief thought was for the breakfast. Having the vegetables prepared, and the range being by this time hot on the top, she put a spider, containing a table-spoonful of butter and one of flour, on the stove, and told Marta to stir slowly till the flour and butter were pale brown, while she tied six sprigs of parsley and half a bay leaf together. When the flour and butter formed a smooth brownish paste, or _roux_, as the cooking-books call it, the carrots and onions, cut small, and the meat were added, with a half salt-spoonful of pepper, three level salt-spoonfuls of salt, and a tea-spoonful of vinegar. These were all stirred round, and a close cover put on. “Now these have to be stirred every minute or so, to prevent burning, till brown, and while the ragout is cooking I will make a lemon pie. I have written the recipe, Marta, as I shall do all for the future, and you will keep the book in the kitchen. I will read it over to you.”