Part 5 (1/2)
”I simply can't stand it!” exploded Dum as soon as she got out of earshot. ”It will give me apoplexy.”
Luncheon was a merry meal that day as Zebedee was in an especially delightful mood and Mary Flannagan had many funny new stories to tell.
She was an indefatigable reader of jokes and could reel them off by the yard, but all the time our romantic souls were atremble to see how Miss c.o.x would take the news of the proposed visit of her one-time lover. We half hoped and half feared that Zebedee would mention the fact that he had extended this invitation to Mr. Gordon, and perhaps she might faint.
We did not want her to faint, but if she did faint we hoped we would be there to see it. We kept wondering why Zebedee did not tell her and finally quite casually he asked:
”Where do you think we had better put Gordon, Jinny?”
”Gordon? Gordon who?”
”Why, Bob Gordon! Didn't the girls tell you he is coming out to stay over Sunday?”
”No--we--we--you--we thought----” but no one ever found out what we did think nor did we find out what Miss c.o.x thought of the return of her supposed lover, for just at this juncture Blanche came into view ready for the ”hysterics of domestic servitude.” In taking off her ”begalia of travel” she had also removed the large, s.h.i.+ny pompadour and disclosed to view a woolly head covered with little tight ”wropped” plaits. She had on a blue checked long-sleeved ap.r.o.n made by what is known as the bungalow pattern, her expression was quite meek and she looked very youthful and rather pathetic. I realized that her vast amount of a.s.surance had come entirely from her fine clothes, and now that she had taken them off she was nothing more nor less than a poor, overgrown country darkey who had been sent to school and taught a lot of stuff before she had any foundation to put it on. It turned out later that she could neither read nor write with any ease, and all of her high-sounding, misp.r.o.nounced words she had gathered from lectures she had attended in the school. She was suffering from this type of schooling as I would have suffered had I gone straight from Bracken to college without getting any training at Gresham.
The effect was so startling, to see this girl whom we had left only a few minutes ago arrayed in all her splendor, now looking for all the world like a picked chicken, that Miss c.o.x and her romance were for the moment forgotten and all our energies were taken up in trying to compose our countenances. Then Mary Flannagan swallowed a sardine whole and had to be well thumped, and by that time Miss c.o.x was able to control her voice (if she had ever lost control of it), and she asked, in a most matter-of-fact way, questions about the expected guest; and if her colour was a little heightened, it might have been Blanche who had caused it. Were we not all of us as red as roses?
CHAPTER VII.
OH, YOU CHAPERONE!
Dum and Dee were to take turns keeping house but I had a steady job as the Advisory Board and we hoped to manage without worrying Miss c.o.x. The girls had tossed up to find out who should begin, and Dee had first go, which meant breaking in Blanche. We were glad to see that she seemed to understand dish was.h.i.+ng and that she moved rapidly considering her size and shape.
”Now, Blanche,” said Dee with a certain pardonable importance, ”my father is to have a guest this evening and we want to have a very nice supper, so you must tell us what are the dishes you can make best.”
”Well, Miss Tucker, I is had great successfulness with my choclid cake and blue mawnge.”
”Oh, I did not mean dessert but the substantial part of the supper,”
gasped Dee. Blanche was always making us gasp, as she was so unexpected.
”Well, as for that my co'se is not took up many things as yit, but I is mastered the stuffin' of green peppers and kin make a most appetizement dish. Up to the presence, the the'ry of domesticated silence has been mo' intrusting to me than the practization.”
Dee looked forlornly to me for help and indeed I felt it was time for the Advisory Board to step in.
”Blanche,” I said, rather sternly, ”did you ever cook any before you went to school?”
”Cook? Of co'se I did, Miss Page. I'se been a-cookin' ever sence I could take a ask cake out'n the fire 'thout burnin' myse'f up.”
”Good! Now see here, Blanche, we want you to cook for us the way you cooked before you ever went to school. Just forget all about domestic science and cook.”
”Don't you want no choclid cake an' no blue mawnge?”
”Not tonight,” said Dee gently as Blanche's countenance was so sad. ”We want some fried fish and some batter bread and perhaps some hot biscuit or waffles. There are some beautiful tomatoes in the refrigerator and some lettuce and we can have peaches and cream for dessert.”
”'Thout no cake?”
”Well, I tell you what you can do,” said the tender-hearted Dee. ”You can make us a chocolate cake for Sunday dinner if your supper turns out well this evening.”
”Oh, thank you, Miss Tucker. I is got so much sentiment fer cake. Now which do you choose to have, biscuit or waffles?”