A cook who is a perfect mistress of her art, who asks for no perquisites, who allows no waste, who never quarrels with the other servants, who drinks nothing stronger than tea, who is to be trusted with untold gold--is not a cook easily replaced.

In this mortal life we put up with many persons and things, as Lady Lundie put up with her cook.

The woman lived, as it were, on the brink of dismissal--but thus far the woman kept her place--getting her holidays when she asked for them (which, to do her justice, was not often) and sleeping always (go where she might with the family) with a locked door, in a room by herself.
Hester Dethridge advanced slowly to the table at which Lady Lundie was sitting.

A slate and pencil hung at her side, which she used for making such replies as were not to be expressed by a gesture or by a motion of the head.

She took up the slate and pencil, and waited with stony submission for her mistress to begin.
Lady Lundie opened the proceedings with the regular formula of inquiry which she had used with all the other servants, "Do you know that Miss Silvester has left the house ?" The cook nodded her head affirmatively.
"Do you know at what time she left it ?" Another affirmative reply.