CHAPTER IV
Domestic Economy
At exactly two minutes to one o'clock Miss Drummond and Mademoisellearrived at the cottage, and were ushered by three rather nervous andanxious housewives into the sitting-room, where the table, at any rate,looked inviting, with its nice clean cloth and elaborately-foldedserviettes. The girls had arranged among themselves that Aldred was tobring in and remove the soup and the cheese, Mabel the meat course andthe dessert, and Dora the sweets and the coffee. While the others,therefore, were taking their seats, Aldred, with a good many misgivings,poured her _potage_ into the little tureen which formed part of thedinner service. She had never tasted French vegetable soup, and doubtedwhether her compound bore the slightest resemblance to the wonderful_bouillon maigre_ of which Madame Pontier had boasted; it seemed of sucha particularly weak and washy consistency, the herbs were nothalf-cooked, and the salad oil was floating on the top, and refused tomix up properly, though she stirred it vigorously with a spoon.
"I'm afraid it hasn't boiled enough on this wretched paraffin cooker,"she thought. "Well, it will have to do now; I can't keep them waiting.I'm glad Dora remembered the toast."
"A six-course dinner!" exclaimed Miss Drummond, picking up the menu withgreat approval. "This is more than Mademoiselle and I had dreamed of! Wecertainly never expected to find soup--it is quite a surprise! Where didyou get the stock?"
"There wasn't any stock; it's made from vegetables," replied Aldred. "Iheard a French lady tell my aunt how to do it, so I thought I'd try."
"_Potage aux herbes!_" ejaculated Mademoiselle, looking at the tureenwith an interest half-gastronomical, half-sentimental; "ah, but thatbring to me other days! I have not tasted _bouillon maigre_ since I livewith my _grand'mere_ at Avignon."
"You must imagine you are back in Provence, then, Mademoiselle," saidMiss Drummond, as she helped to hand the plates.
"It was a sweet thought to make it--_une idee tout a fait gentille_! Thescenes of one's youth, ah, what it is to recall them to the memory! _Mafoi!_ but I am again in the old white _chateau_: the green shutters areclosed to keep out the warm sun; Jules, the _concierge_, carries in thedishes, treading softly on the polished floor; outside is the cooing ofdoves, and the tinkling of goat bells. _Grand'mere_, so stately, soerect, so gay in spite of her years, she sit at the table's head, andserve to all the portion. It is to me as if I were there!"
Steeped in these reminiscences of her childhood, Mademoiselle, withpleased anticipation, raised her spoon to her lips. Then, alas! alas!she spluttered, made a horrible grimace, and buried her face in herserviette.
"_Ah! mais c'est degoutant!_" she murmured faintly.
Aldred hurriedly tasted her own plateful. Mademoiselle had notexaggerated matters; a more unpleasant brew could not be imagined. Thevarious vegetables and herbs were still half-raw, and had not impartedtheir flavour, so the soup seemed mainly a mixture of spices and saladoil, and had, besides, a suggestion of paraffin, owing no doubt to theflaring-up of the lamp.
Poor Aldred blushed hotly. She was covered with confusion at such a deadfailure. The others had all politely sampled the soup, and then laiddown their spoons; it was quite impossible for anybody to take it.
"Never mind, my dear!" said Miss Drummond kindly. "You tried to give usa surprise, and we are as sorry as you that it should have turned out sounfortunately. Even the best cook has to profit by experience, and thevalue of this little cottage is that it gives you the opportunity oflearning from practice. You will be wiser another time. Perhaps youraunt's French friend will send you a written recipe, with exactquantities and instructions. It needs a very old housekeeper to make adish from hearsay. Suppose you take out the tureen, and we will go onwith the next course."
Mabel's and Dora's stew, made exactly as Miss Reade had shown them inthe cookery class, was quite satisfactory. They had put in the rightseasonings, and had remembered to brown and thicken the gravy. Thepotatoes and beans were also up to standard, which cheered Aldred alittle. She was partly responsible for them, and had helped to preparethem, though it was Dora who had shaken the potato pan, and put the dabof butter among the beans. Miss Drummond looked mildly surprised at theaddition of bread sauce, but she helped herself without comment, feelingpledged to taste all her pupils' efforts. Aldred had been obliged todraw upon her inventive powers for this also, as she had no recipe, andthe result, though not so disagreeable as the soup, was far frompalatable. She had made it exactly like bread and milk, without onion,butter, or cloves; and had even added a little sugar to it. She wishedsincerely that she had not included it in the menu, or, at any rate,that she had not allowed it to be brought to table. She looked soconscious and distressed that Miss Drummond readily divined who was theauthor of the attempt, and charitably forbore to remark upon it, thoughshe left her portion unfinished on her plate.
The rest of the dinner was really very creditable. Dora's blancmange wassmooth, and Mabel's pastry light. Aldred had arranged the cheese andbiscuits daintily on paper d'oyleys; and the coffee, a combined effortof the trio, was a great improvement upon that of the morning.
The three girls heaved a vast sigh of relief when Miss Drummond, after atour of inspection into the kitchen and scullery, departed, expressingsatisfaction both with the dinner and with the general neatness andorder of the establishment. Mademoiselle had excused herself the momentcoffee was finished. She had been very silent after the episode of thesoup, perhaps her thoughts were in Provence, or perhaps she consideredit a hardship that her duties should include being obliged to enduresuch amateur cookery.
"Hurrah! The worst part of the day is over," said Mabel. "I felt Icouldn't breathe freely until dinner was done with, and Miss Drummondout of the house!"
"I'm quite exhausted with all our efforts," declared Dora, sinking intoa basket-chair and tucking a cushion behind her head.
"Your efforts were successful," said Aldred ruefully. "I don't thinkMademoiselle will ever forget my wretched _bouillon maigre_. I'm afraidshe won't accept an invitation to dine at the cottage again."
"Well, she won't have us for cooks in any case, for we shan't getanother day here now until next term. I wish our turns could comeoftener!"
"Yes, we could do with a whole row of cottages."
"I'm afraid Miss Drummond won't build them."
"No, I suppose they cost too much."
The girls felt they had earned a rest after their labours, so they satchatting for a while in the sitting-room before they began to clear awaythe remains of the feast.
"The others are looking forward tremendously to coming to tea," saidMabel. "It was nice of Miss Drummond to let us ask the whole Form."
"Well, we were allowed three visitors, and it would have been so hard tochoose which. The two who were left out would have been so offended; andit really would have been hard on them, when they thought of the fun therest were having."
"Look here!" cried Dora, starting up, "do you know it's a quarter-pasttwo? If we're expecting five girls to tea at half-past four, we shallhave to bestir ourselves and make some cakes."
"And there's the jam! We mustn't forget our precious blackberries,"added Aldred.
"WITH A SHRIEK SHE DREW SWIFTLY BACK"]
An unpleasant surprise awaited them in the kitchen. They had forgottenthe very existence of the stove while they were talking, and the firewas out. Until it was rekindled there did not seem much prospect ofeither cakes or jam. Dora and Aldred hastened to the rescue, while Mabelcleared the table, swept up crumbs, and generally tidied thesitting-room.
"We must manage to make it burn up quickly, or we shan't have the ovenhot in time," said Aldred; and going into the scullery, she fetched theparaffin can, and poured a liberal amount over the pyramid of sticks andcoal in the grate.
"Miss Reade said we were never to use paraffin!" objected Dora.
"Well, I suppose it's wrong in theory," answered Aldred, "but it's goodin practice. I've seen the housemaid use it at home, when Aunt Berthawas out of the way. There's nothing li
ke it for making a blaze. There!I've put on the lid, so if you will set a light to it, you'll see itwill catch at once."
Dora knelt down in front of the stove, struck a match, and applied it tothe paper. Then, instantly, a horrible thing happened. The paraffinflared up, and the strong down-draught from the stove pipe sent theflame suddenly straight out through the bars of the grate into her face.With a shriek she drew swiftly back; for the moment she thought she wasblinded. Mabel came running in much consternation from the sitting-room,to see what had happened, and found Dora crouching on the floor with herhands over her eyes, and Aldred standing by, as white as a ghost.
"What's the matter? Are you hurt?" cried Mabel.
"Oh, I can see, after all!" shuddered Dora, cautiously peeping throughher hands. "I never expected the stove to play me such a horrid trick!Is my face burnt?"
"No; but oh dear, your eyebrows and eyelashes are singed! They look soqueer!"
Dora got up, and ran to view herself in the small mirror that hung overthe dresser.
"I've certainly spoilt my beauty--what there was of it! And I've had amost dreadful fright, too!" she remarked.
"It was my fault!" quavered Aldred, who was horror-stricken at theaccident. "I'd no idea the flame would rush out in front. You might havelost your sight!"
"Well, it can't be helped now," said Dora, with good-temperedphilosophy. "We'd better keep this little episode as quiet as we can. Ionly hope Miss Drummond won't notice my eyebrows, and ask what I've beendoing to them. We'll never try such a silly thing again, though it wasvery efficacious--the fire's blazing away hard. What about the jam? Canyou look after it, Aldred? You said you knew how. Mabel and I will makesome potato cakes, and some scones."
After the failure of the soup and the bread sauce, Aldred's supremeconfidence in her powers was rather shaken; but she would not confess asmuch to her companions, and readily undertook to superintend thepreserving. The blackberries were waiting in the basket, and the poundsof sugar had been smuggled in that morning by the cook, and wereconcealed under towels in a drawer.
Aldred wished now that she had not refused Miss Reade's recipe. Therewas no printed cookery book at the cottage, as the girls were notsupposed to try experiments, but to carry out what they had learned inclass, the instructions being written down in their notebooks.
"Still, jam really isn't difficult," she reflected. "There are no horridseasonings and flavourings, only the fruit and the sugar. I don't seehow I can go wrong over this; I've seen Aunt Bertha make it dozens oftimes!"
She set to work very providently and systematically. First she found thejam pots, wiped them, and placed them in readiness, then got the bigbrass pan and rubbed it carefully with butter, to make sure that not theslightest particle of verdigris could be left in it. She felt quiteproud of herself for thus remembering her aunt's methodical ways. Nextshe measured the blackberries with a pint mug, and found that there werenearly five quarts, therefore four pounds of sugar would be just enough.
"I'll put the sugar in first," she thought, "and then, when it'sboiling, drop in the fruit, like Aunt Bertha does. It keeps theblackberries whole, instead of letting them go squashy."
So on went the pan, and Aldred, armed with a big wooden spoon, stirredvigorously, wondering why the sugar did not begin to turn into a softsyrup, such as she had seen at home.
"There's a queer smell from somewhere!" exclaimed Mabel, who was at thetable concocting potato cakes. "Is anything burning?"
"It's surely not my precious scones!" shrieked Dora, flying to the ovenin hot haste, to ascertain the fate of the delicacies in question.
"Why, you only put them in a moment ago!"
"No, it's not the scones; they've hardly begun to cook yet," said Dora,much relieved. "Aldred, I believe it's your sugar. Why don't you stirit?"
"I am stirring," returned Aldred, who, indeed, was wielding the spoonwith frantic zeal.
"What's wrong then? Let me try."
Aldred resigned her weapon, and Dora took her place at the stove; butshe was already too late, for the sugar was rapidly turning into ablack, solid mass.
"Lift off the pan!" cried Mabel. "Can't you see it's burning horribly?Oh, what a nasty, disgusting, sticky mess!"
"I don't know why it should have burnt," complained Aldred; "I waswatching it the whole time."
"Did you put enough water into it?"
"Water! I didn't put in any at all," faltered Aldred.
"You unmitigated goose!" exclaimed Dora. "Why, even I know that sugarwill burn by itself, though I don't pretend to make jam. You really area bungler to-day! How many more silly things are you going to do?"
"Everyone's liable to make mistakes," said Mabel, coming to her friend'sdefence. "It was you who suggested the jam, Dora, and neither you nor Iknew exactly the proper way."
"Evidently Aldred didn't either. Why couldn't she get a recipe from MissReade?"
"I thought I could remember," apologized Aldred, who was feelingdecidedly crestfallen.
"Well, you've spoilt all the sugar, at any rate! And the blackberriesare no use now, either. It's really too bad!"
"Oh, Dora, don't be cross, there's a dear!" entreated Mabel. "Aldred'sfearfully sorry! I suppose we shouldn't have been so ambitious. Iexpect your scones will be lovely, and that will quite make up for thejam. Hadn't you better look at them again?"
Dora allowed herself to be pacified, though she felt she had more thanone grievance against Aldred that day. She had refrained from anyreproaches when her eyebrows were singed, but she was annoyed at herdisfigurement, and thought that the various misadventures might havebeen avoided. She was considerably consoled, however, when she openedthe oven door and caught sight of her scones. They had risenbeautifully, and were done to a turn, just brown enough on the top, andnicely baked through.
"I believe they'll taste all right, when they're split in halves andbuttered," she murmured, as she took them out of the tin.
"Help me with the potato cakes, Aldred," suggested Mabel, who wasanxious to make up for Dora's snubbing. "You can stamp them out, andI'll do the rolling. And somebody fill the kettle! It is a quarter tofour, and the girls are sure to be so punctual!"
"She'd better clean out the preserving pan!" grunted Dora. "It can't beleft in this state. Miss Drummond will be round again at six, to inspectbefore we go. Those who make a mess must tidy up."
Aldred saw the force of the argument. She did not want to shirk thedisagreeable task, nor put it off on to anybody else. Though she heldrather too good an opinion of herself, it was not one of her failings totry to avoid her fair share of any work on hand. She began at once toclean the pan, and toiled away without asking any help from the others,though it was a lengthy and troublesome performance. She was obliged toscrape the burnt sugar off with a knife, and then scrub away with sandand brick dust and soap. It took her fully half an hour, and made herhands quite sore.
She had just finished, and put the humiliating row of jam pots back onto the scullery shelf, when a loud rap-tap sounded on the door.
"They're here--ten minutes too soon!" cried Mabel. "Go and let them in,Aldred. I'm taking out the potato cakes, and Dora's laying the table."
The five visitors arrived in the very highest of spirits, and with thebest of appetites. They overstepped the bounds of politeness by sniffingthe air appreciatively as they entered, and announcing themselves readyto eat anything and everything.
"I feel like a ragged-school child going to a treat!" announced Ursula."As for Lorna, she's been banting in preparation; she hardly took anydinner."
"It's a libel!" protested Lorna. "I had quite as much as Ursie. Whathave you made? We're dying to know!"
"Where are your manners? Please to remember you're visitors. You're notto ask; you must wait until we bring the things on to the table."
Three hostesses and five guests seemed to completely fill the tinysitting-room.
"It's so delightfully minute!" declared Phoebe Stanhope. "When I was alittle girl, I always longed to make myself
small, like Alice inWonderland, and have tea in my own dolls' house. Now I feel as if I werereally doing it at last!"
"There isn't room for us all at the table," said Mabel. "Dora, you hadbetter let down that side leaf."
"It's an afternoon calling tea, not a sit-down schoolroom tea,"explained Aldred.
"Three of you must sit in the cosy corner," commanded Dora, "and theother two may have the arm-chairs."
"But mayn't we help to bring in the things?"
"No, you mayn't! Agnes, I wish you'd sit down! If you were paying a realcall, you wouldn't bounce up and try to peep into the kitchen."
"You came too early," said Mabel reproachfully. "We were going to haveeverything exactly ready for half-past four."
"Well, you might at least tell us how you've been getting on. Has itbeen fun spending the day here?"
"Simply scrumptious!" replied the trio.
"I'd like to do it again next week!" added Dora.
"It's the Fifth Form next Saturday, and after that it's my turn, withPhoebe and Myfanwy. When's this wonderful tea coming in? We're allwaiting!"
"We'll make it now," said Mabel. "Aldred, will you put out the spoons?"
Dora had laid the best embroidered linen cloth on the table, set cupsand saucers, and brought in the milk and a plateful of bread and butter.It only needed the teapot and the scones and cakes, therefore, tocomplete the feast.
"I hope you've made enough to go round twice!" said Ursula.
"Beautiful cakes, so rich and brown, Oh, how quickly you'll go down! Who for such dainties does not ache? Cake of the evening, beautiful, beautiful cake!"
sang Phoebe, trying to out-Alice _Alice_.
"How disgustingly greedy you are! I call it quite indecent. You don'tdeserve anything, except plain bread and scrape."
Mabel crossed the passage laughing; but as she opened the kitchen doorher mirth was changed to mourning. There, with his fore-paws upon thetable, stood Raggles, the shaggy yard dog, devouring scones as fast ashe could gulp them down his capacious throat. Mabel uttered a cry ofdismay, and, catching up the rolling pin, which was the nearest thing athand, flung it at the intruder, who snatched a last mouthful, and boltedhastily through the back door.
"Oh, Dora! Aldred! Come and see what's happened!" cried poor Mabel,bursting into the sitting-room, oblivious of the fact that a modelhostess ought not to air such domestic catastrophes in public. Thevisitors did not stand on ceremony, however, but seized the opportunityto make a dash for the kitchen, into which they had been longing topeep.
"I never dreamt of Raggles coming in! I thought he was tied up!" wailedDora.
"We oughtn't to have left the back door open," said Aldred.
"It was so hot; one can't have the place all stuffy! Oh, the wretch! Iwish they'd choked him!"
"Has he taken every one?" asked the disconsolate guests.
"All except three, and as he seemed to be licking the whole plateful, Idon't suppose anybody would care to try what he's left!" replied Mabel.
"My lovely scones! And I had split them and buttered them!" moaned Dora,almost in tears.
"Well, we have the potato cakes, at any rate. Luckily, I put them on thetop of the stove, to keep hot, and Raggles didn't find them out."
"We'd better eat them quick, before any more accidents happen," advisedAldred, hastily pouring the water on the tea, and heading the processionback into the sitting-room.
The potato cakes were a huge success. That was the universal verdict.They were light, and hot, and buttery, and the only fault to be foundwas that there were not nearly sufficient of them. Mabel handed theplate round with impartial justice, and there were only two apiece.
"Just enough to make one want more!" sighed Ursula, consuming the lastdelicious crumb.
"There's plenty of bread and butter, if you're hungry."
"But I'm not bread-and-butter hungry!"
"I'm sorry we've no jam!" apologized Dora.
"Oh, don't!" begged Aldred, who still felt humiliated at the fate of theblackberries.
"She didn't mean it!" interposed Mabel the peacemaker. "I vote we havesome buttered toast, and anybody can hold it who likes to volunteer."
When Miss Drummond arrived at six o'clock she found the visitorsgone, the tea-things washed, and the whole of the wee establishmentin apple-pie order; while three flushed, rather tired littlemaids-of-all-work stood at attention, ready for her tour of inspection.
"Housekeeping isn't quite so easy and simple as it appears on thesurface, is it?" she remarked. "In its own way, it has as manydifficulties as Latin or mathematics, and needs as much learning. It'sa very useful art, however, and worthy of cultivation. You'll havegained a little experience even in this one brief experiment, and yourmistakes will teach you what to avoid next time. You have done verynicely, though, and I shall give you each a good report. Have youenjoyed your day at the cottage?"
And all three girls answered: "Immensely!"
A Fourth Form Friendship: A School Story Page 6
