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.