CHAPTER XIV

HERE’S WHERE I COOK

The summer passed quietly and not unprofitably for Joanne. There were fewer arguments with her grandmother and only upon one occasion did she dissolve into tears, a shower which was soon over, at that. Of course she missed the girls, Winnie with her rosy face and candid speech, Claudia, gracious and helpful. Even the presence of Esther, argumentative and a trifle given to envy, would have been acceptable, but on the whole Joanne felt that she had been able to get on pretty well, and certainly had added to her attainments. She counted up the tests which she felt able to take for new badges and felt a glow of pleasure as she realized that she was nearing her goal. She had not lost her love of the shining river but found that the mountains, too, had their charm, and that she would be sorry to leave them.

The day came, however, when she was back again in the city, eager for school to begin, and looking forward with happiness to the first rally. But, alas! that old quotation about the “best laid plans of mice and men,” was to be all too fittingly applied in her case.

There was a good deal of trouble in getting the house in proper running order. Servants were hard to get, men to put down carpets and rugs still scarcer. Mrs. Selden fussed and fumed, worried and worked more than she should have done, but at last two maids were procured, a cook and a housemaid. For a week things went on fairly well, considering Mrs. Selden’s very particular ways, her demands and exactions, then came a Sunday morning the very day before school should begin, and the domestic machinery was clogged.

Joanne came down at the usual hour. She found her grandfather in the library reading. “Where’s Gradda?” asked Joanne.

“I persuaded her to have her breakfast in bed,” said Dr. Selden. “She is all tired out and needs a good rest. She will be ill if she keeps on at the rate she has been going. She is not used to grappling with these new conditions and takes it hard. Suppose you go out, Joanne, and tell the cook to send up her breakfast when it is ready.” He looked at his watch. “It is getting pretty late; it should certainly be ready by now.”

Joanne went out to the dining-room. The shutters were unopened, the table not set. “Well, I declare,” murmured the girl, “Hester isn’t here yet. I don’t see why the cook couldn’t have attended to her work.”

She went on to the kitchen. Darkness reigned here. There was no fire in the range, not a sign of breakfast. “Well, of all things!” exclaimed Joanne. “I wonder if those two horrid creatures have gone off for good and all.” She went up the back stairs to the servants’ rooms. Not a sign of their possessions. Everything had been packed up and taken away. “That certainly does beat the Dutch!” said Joanne. “Well, there’s one thing about it, Gradda shall not know till she has had her breakfast.”

Back to the library she went to report to her grandfather. “What do you think, Grad?” she cried. “Those two wretches have taken French leave. Their week was up and Gradda paid them. They’ve taken every stitch of their clothes and have cleared out. The dining-room and kitchen are as dark as Egypt, no fire in the range and not a sign of breakfast.”

“What?” Dr. Selden sprang to his feet. “This is a pretty how-do-you-do! Sunday, your grandmother half ill, and no one to do a thing!”

“You blessed old dear, that’s just where you’re mistaken. There is some one to do several things. If you can keep Gradda from kicking over the traces I’ll do the rest.”

“You?”

“Yes, kind sir, if you please. Haven’t I cooked many a breakfast and dinner, too, at camp? I am a dabster at it. If you wouldn’t mind opening the shutters I’ll fly to work and get things ready in the shake of a sheep’s tail. I can use the gas range, you see. Suppose you don’t go up to Gradda yet. We can make believe we think she is asleep; maybe she is. If we have fruit, coffee, eggs and toast I think we can get along, don’t you?”

“Admirably.”

“I could make some biscuits, but that would take too long. Come, Grad, us to the fray.”

In a few minutes things were astir in the kitchen. Joanne had her grandmother’s tray ready in an incredibly short space of time, and very daintily laid it was. At the last moment Joanne dashed out into the small enclosure at the back, which was dignified by the name of “the garden,” and from there gathered two or three bright nasturtiums which she placed on the tray, to brighten it up, she said.

“Now, Grad, you can take it up,” she called to her grandfather. “I’ll have your breakfast ready by the time you get back. How do you like your egg, hard or soft?”

“Three minutes,” replied Dr. Selden, taking the tray from her hands.

“Then don’t stay any longer than that, for I am going to put it in right away. Everything else is ready. And please don’t on any account tell Gradda the cook isn’t here.”

The doctor went off and Joanne scurried around to have everything on the table by the time he returned. “Dear me,” she said to herself, “I shouldn’t have put the eggs in till we have had our fruit. I know what I can do, I’ll coddle them; they’ll be nicer anyhow, and it won’t hurt them to stand in the hot water. I’ll keep the toast in the oven and open the door.”

She was at her place at table by the time her grandfather returned. “I hope you don’t mind eating with the cook,” she said as she sat down.

“Why should I?” the doctor returned. “I am the butler.”

Joanne laughed and answered, “I’ll have to call you James then, and you can call me Cook. What did Gradda say?”

“I didn’t give her a chance to say much. I told her that Hester hadn’t come yet, and that I thought she might get faint so I had brought up her breakfast myself. She looked at the flowers and asked who put them there. I told her you had arranged the tray, and then I skipped out before she had time to ask any more questions.”

“You were a very tactful butler. Bring out your plate, James, and help me to take in breakfast.”

The doctor arose with alacrity to bring in the coffee while Joanne followed with the eggs and toast. She felt quite important to be sitting at the head of the table serving the coffee. Her grandfather took the cup she passed him and stirred it with a critical air, then he tasted it.

“Why, Joanne, it’s fine,” he said with an air of surprise.

“Humph!” she retorted, “that sounds as if you expected it wouldn’t be fit to drink.”

“To tell you the truth I had my doubts. Where did you learn how?”

“At camp, of course. Is your egg right? I think they’re nicer coddled than just plain boiled, more digestible, too.”

“How do you know that?”

“Oh, Miss Dodge told me. I’ll get some more toast; I’m keeping it hot.”

“It’s mighty good toast, too,” commented her grandfather as she went out. “Isn’t it the butler’s duty to bring it in?”

“The cook will have to do it this time, for the butler isn’t accustomed to gas stoves and may burn his fingers.”

“If this keeps up we’d better get an electric toaster,” said Dr. Selden as he helped himself to the toast Joanne brought in. “By the way, what about our dinner? It is quite plain to me that we shall have no cook to-day.”

“James, I am surprised at you,” returned Joanne. “Me ’ere with han hexcellent character, me what ’as cooked for has many has fourteen hat table, to ’ave such himputations cast at me. Hit’s hinsulting, that’s what hit his. I can take han hinsult has good has annybody, but there his limits, and Hi don’t suffer nobody to say I ain’t no cook.”

Her grandfather tossed aside his napkin and came over to her. “You little monkey,” he said tousling her curly head, “where did you pick up that lingo?”

“Oh, in places we have been and out of books. I don’t think I got my aitches all in the right place, but never mind. There was a head chambermaid at the hotel in Bermuda who was an excellent model. I used to find her aitches all over the place after she had left the room.”

Her grandfather laughed. “But seriously, my child,” he said presently, “this question of dinner is no joke. I think we’d better take any sort of pick-up lunch and go out somewhere to dinner.”

“But, Grad dear, everything is in the house for dinner, and, honestly, I want to try. I won’t promise that it will be perfect, but I’ll try to make it eatable. All I ask is that you won’t bring any one home to dinner. We’ll have it in the middle of the day as we always do on Sundays. If you will impress upon Gradda that she isn’t to appear till dinner time, I think I can manage. You go off to church and I’ll hold the fort.”

“But----”

“Please, no buts.”

“I am afraid it will be a great task for you.”

“Not a bit of it. I shall never learn younger, and ever and ever so many girls no older than I have done it and keep on doing it. Really you don’t appreciate what a wonderful chance it is for me. Now, James, we’re not getting on hat hall. Just go hup hand fetch down the Madam’s dishes then make yourself tidy for church.”

“But----”

“Don’t hanswer back, James; hit hisn’t respectful. Go, do has I tell you.” And the doctor went off meekly and without another word.

When he reached the stairs he began to chuckle. “The little scamp!” he murmured, “if she didn’t fairly override me. She’s just like her father; such spirit.”

It was a busy morning for Joanne. She looked into the refrigerator to take account of stock. There was lamb to be roasted, lettuce to be prepared for salad with tomatoes. The dessert was made, fortunately, and was on the ice. In the pantry she found potatoes and other vegetables. She surveyed these thoughtfully, coming to the conclusion that baked sweet potatoes and lima beans would be the best selection for that day. There was canned soup which would lighten her labors. Then she set to work. First she pored over the cook-book to find out how long it would take to cook the various articles, then she prepared her vegetables, and, once all were set going, she went to the dining-room and made ready the table.

Not once did she go up-stairs for fear of disturbing her grandmother and of undergoing a cross-examination. She was on her knees before the stove, basting the meat, when she heard a startled exclamation and, looking up, saw her grandmother standing in the doorway, an expression of surprise and almost of horror on her face.

“My child,” she cried, “what are you doing?”

Joanne shut the oven door and rose to her feet. “Cooking dinner,” she replied smoothly.

“Cooking dinner? What do you mean? Where is Maria?”

“I haven’t the faintest idea. She and Hester have gone bag and baggage; at least they have left no visible possessions here; so I suppose they have gone for good.”

Mrs. Selden sank into a chair and raised her hands in dismay. “What are we coming to? Here it is Sunday and no way to get help. What are we to do?”

“Eat the dinner when it’s cooked and wash up the dishes afterward,” returned Joanne in a cheerful voice.

“Oh, but you poor child, you couldn’t possibly do everything.”

“Why not? It won’t be the first time. Now, go into the other room, like a dear, good lady, and don’t fuss. Grad will be here directly and he can help me take in the things. Don’t look so woebegone, Gradda darling; I am getting along beautifully.”

Mrs. Selden drew a long sigh, but made the move to leave Joanne to her own devices. At the door, however, she looked back reproachfully to say, “And you didn’t go to church.”

“Couldn’t very well. I’m sorry, but works of necessity and mercy detained me.”

“Why didn’t you call me early? I could have helped you. I am not much of a cook, I admit, but I could have done other things.”

“Just what I wanted to avoid. You needed all the rest you could get. Cl’ar de kitchen! Cl’ar de kitchen. Shoo! Shoo!”

Mrs. Selden went out, and pretty soon her husband’s latch-key was in the door. He went straight to the kitchen. “Well, Pickings,” he said, “how goes it?”

“Fine,” returned Joanne. “No slim pickings to-day, Grad.”

“What can I do?”

“You might fill the glasses, and then help me take in dinner; it’s all ready. Be careful, James, when you fill the glasses not to spill the water on the clean table-cloth.”

“Your grandmother down?”

“Yes, and she almost wept when she saw me playing cook.”

In a few minutes dinner was on the table and Joanne, flushed and triumphant, took her place. The meal was not served in the usual orderly manner. There were frequent jumpings up to change plates or to bring in something forgotten, all of which annoyed Mrs. Selden, a great stickler for the proprieties, but neither Dr. Selden nor Joanne minded, and the little cook received all the praise due her. Even Mrs. Selden, though she spoke with caution, was pleased to remark: “I have had many cooks who professed to be expert but who did no better.” This was not an enthusiastic comment upon Joanne’s skill, but it was quite as much as could be expected from such a particular body.

Supper was a more jovial meal, for the Pattison cousins happened in, and Cousin Sue turned to and helped, then Cousin Ned insisted upon joining the kitchen workers and was so jolly and funny that Dr. Selden came out to see what made them all so merry. He declared that his nephew was trying to usurp his place as butler, and would have it that he could be only footman. They carried on such an absurd dispute that the cook and her assistant came near to spoiling the dish they were preparing because of laughing so much.

“They are just two grown-up boys,” declared Mrs. Pattison when the two men had marched out solemnly, each bearing a dish. “I never knew Uncle Greg could be so funny. I used to be just a little wee bit afraid of him.”

“He can be awfully good fun,” returned Joanne, “but he can be very dignified and stern, too. Now that he has come home for good, we are the greatest chums. I used to be not exactly afraid of him, but I minded his lectures more than Gradda’s.”

It was a tired Joanne who went to bed that Sunday night, but she had a great sense of well-being. For the first time in her life she had taken up real responsibilities, had performed tasks which meant the comfort and welfare of those she best loved. Heretofore they had done things for her; now she was doing these things for them. The petulant, self-centred, spoiled child was left far behind; she was catching up with the ideal woman whose shining robes she could dimly discern on the road ahead.

The next day was such a busy one that she almost forgot that school was beginning. Mrs. Selden had worried herself into a sick headache, though it required the united persuasions of Joanne and her grandfather to keep the poor woman in bed.

“How will you get along, you poor child?” she moaned when Joanne appeared for her breakfast dishes.

“I can get along perfectly well,” returned Joanne firmly.

“But all the things to be done; the ice to take in, the milk to see to, the orders to give, the door-bell to answer, not to mention the cooking.”

“Now listen, Gradda dear,” replied Joanne. “I am perfectly capable of attending to such things as ice and milk; I’d be a poor stick if I couldn’t. Grad will get his lunch down-town. He is going to hunt up a cook, and send an order to the laundry asking them to call for the wash.”

“That’s another thing,” wailed Mrs. Selden. “You have never in your life sorted the clothes and made out the list.”

“Then it’s high time I began. I know the difference between a sheet and a pillow-case, I hope. As to cooking, you know I can do all that is necessary, so far as that is concerned.”

“And to-day your school begins,” went on her grandmother with a new grievance.

“That’s nothing. It will be several days before the classes are in good running order. Lots of the girls don’t come back the first week. I am going to darken the room, and I want you to lie still and not worry. I’m not the baby I was a year ago, and I can perfectly well attend to everything. Shut your eyes and ‘keep a pleasant thought in your mind,’ as the photographers tell you.” She leaned over and gave her grandmother’s cheek a light kiss. “If you want anything, just ring the bell.”

She went off leaving her patient with a new feeling of reliance upon the girl expanding into a capable woman. It was an unwonted experience to listen to the authoritative voice speaking in such assured accents. Joanne was right; a year ago if any one had thrust such responsibilities upon her she would have been bewildered, probably rebellious, impatient, or weepingly, whiningly protesting. “She is going to be a great comfort, after all,” sighed Mrs. Selden as she closed her eyes.

Joanne tackled the day’s duties with the same determined energy she had shown the day before. She carried up a dish of milk toast and a cup of tea for her grandmother’s lunch; made her own meal from leavings which she found in the refrigerator, and then sat down for a while. Presently the door-bell rang. She opened the door to see Winnie Merryman standing on the step.

“You old fraud,” exclaimed Winnie, “why weren’t you at school to-day? I thought you were crazy to be one of the first in the field.”

“Cease your recriminations,” replied Joanne. “Come in and I’ll tell you the why and wherefore.”

“I thought maybe you were ill,” continued Winnie as she followed Joanne into the library.

“No, I’m not, but Gradda is; at least she has worried herself into a sick headache. She did too much last week, and now both the maids have taken French leave, so here’s where I cook.”

“You don’t mean it!”

“Sure pop. Sit thee down and let me pour out the tale of my woes into your sympathetic ear.”

Winnie listened attentively to Joanne’s recital; at its close she broke out with “Jo, I think you’re a brick!”

“Brick your own self. You would do just the same. You see I can’t very well help myself. The worst part is trying to manage poor dear Gradda. She is overcome with horror at poor little baby Jo trying to act like a responsible being. I’ve always been a sort of vine, you see, at least I have had to play vine whether I wanted to or not, and now that I can stiffen up without twining she can’t understand it. She isn’t used to these emergencies, anyway. Life has gone on rather placidly for her. When she has kept house she could always get servants without difficulty. Now when those good old days are past and they are hard to get she is all adrift without sail or compass, and is all used up. Grad has gone out on the war-path, and I am hoping for a good report.”

“Suppose he can’t get any one.”

“I shall keep up the good fight, of course. Now tell me about school.”

“Oh, well, there wasn’t much doing, and won’t be till the schedules are made out.”

“All the girls back?”

“Some are not, but there are several new ones. I haven’t sized them up yet. Clausie and Ess were on hand, but Betty and Virgie won’t be here till next week.”

“Then I shall not be the last leaf upon the tree. Tell me, Win, what is the best way to fix up cold lamb? You see where my thoughts are. We had roast lamb hot for dinner yesterday and cold for supper. It gets sort of monotonous that way, besides I am anxious to try my powers.”

“Well, let me see. I think the nicest way is to slice it, put it in a baking dish with a little onion, salt and pepper, then put in some tomatoes and green peppers, if you have them, and bake all together.”

“Sounds toothsome, but I’m sort of scared of peppers; I don’t know a thing about them, but I know Grad loves them, and I’m sure he would be charmed with such a dish.”

“How would you like me to stay and superintend the job?”

“Oh, Win, would you?”

“Delighted. I can ’phone mother that I won’t be back to dinner.”

“You dear thing! Not only shall I be more than happy to have your company, but I shall be most grateful for your suggestions.”

“We can do things together and it won’t seem half the work.”

“It will seem anything but work. To tell you the truth I was getting a little bit lonely with not a soul to speak to. I hope Gradda will be able to come down to dinner, but she mustn’t if Grad says not.”

“What are you going to have for dinner besides the lamb?”

“Some sort of soup; there is a whole row of canned kinds in the pantry. For vegetables I thought of potatoes and baked tomatoes; for dessert I thought I’d have sliced peaches and cream.”

“I call that a good dinner, but, my child, why have the baked tomatoes if you have them in with the meat?”

“Sure enough. I forgot that I have some corn which is the easiest thing in the world to cook and will go well with the rest.”

“I hope you have enough for me,” returned Winnie laughing, “for I adore corn.”

“Oh, there’ll be enough.”

“Then I’ll get mother on the ’phone, and we’ll call it settled.”

The two girls were in the midst of their preparations for dinner when Dr. Selden came in. “What luck?” sang out Joanne.

He came into the kitchen. Winnie, paring peaches, nodded to him. “I can’t shake hands,” she said; “I’m reeking with juice.”

“Why didn’t you tell me that you had already engaged a cook?” said the doctor smiling at Joanne.

“Oh, this one is only day’s work kind,” retorted Joanne. “Did you find anybody, Grad? Do relieve my anxiety.”

“I found two; one who can come right away; the other not till the latter part of the week. Under any other circumstances it would be better to wait for the second, for she is highly recommended, and is just the kind your grandmother would like. I thought I’d better consult her before we decided.”

“What’s the matter with the other one?”

“She is not so well recommended and I was not very favorably impressed. I fancy she is the kind who would follow the example of our late lamented Maria and would leave without ceremony if she felt like it.”

“Then don’t let’s have her. I’d much rather stick it out to the end of the week and then take the good one. Don’t you say so, Win?”

“That would be my way of doing,” returned Winnie, going to the sink to rid her fingers of the juice upon them. “I tell you what, Jo, one of us can come and help you out with the dinner and the dishes; I’d love to, and when I can’t come Clausie can or Ess, or some of us. We’d simply adore to do it.”

“But, Miss Winnie,” began the doctor.

“Now, doctor, please don’t say a word,” begged Winnie. “We are Girl Scouts, you know, and if we can’t help out in case of need we aren’t worth the powder to blow us up.”

“Besides,” put in Joanne eagerly, “it is going to be a corking experience for me. Win, you are a perfect love to want to help out.”

“But what will your grandmother say?” asked the doctor.

“What can she say? All you need tell her is that you have engaged a cook to come--what day did you say?”

“Thursday, I believe. I have her telephone number and am to call her up as soon as the question is decided.”

“Then we’ll call it decided,” replied Joanne, “and you can go right now and call her up, then that will all be settled.”

Dr. Selden hesitated a moment, then he went off to the telephone.

“There is not a bit of sense in getting in an incompetent woman who would be more bother than she was worth,” declared Joanne when her grandfather returned. “What are a few days more or less if you get the right one in the end? What about a housemaid, Grad?”

“The woman I have just engaged knows of one we can get.”

“So much the more should we wait, then. Don’t you think so?”

“I think you are growing a wise old head on very young shoulders.”

Joanne laughed and her grandfather went on up-stairs leaving the girls to scurry around and make ready to serve the dinner.