"There seem so many little things to think about!" she declared. "While you're doing one, you just forget another. I can quite believe the story of King Alfred burning the cakes, though Miss Bardsley always says it's 'not based on sound historical evidence'."
"It's most natural, and has the ring of truth," agreed Mabel, "especially the woman saying he would be ready enough to eat them afterwards. I should have told him so myself, I'm sure."
"What are we going to give Miss Drummond for dinner?" enquired Dora. "Let us arrange that before we begin to clear away. The kettle can't boil for quite five minutes, so we may as well hold our council of war now."
After considerable discussion they decided to cut the loin of mutton into chops, and stew it with carrots and turnips; to have kidney beans for the second vegetable, and a plum tart and a corn-flour blancmange for the pudding.
"Couldn't we have some soup?" suggested Aldred.
"There's nothing to make it with. We've no stock or bones."
"You don't need any. It can be bouillon maigre, instead of bouillon gras—just water and vegetables, without any meat. A lady who lives in France was staying with us this summer, and she said they always have it like that on Fridays. They put all kinds of things from the garden into it—things we never think of using. It will be a compliment to Mademoiselle to give her a French dish."
"Hadn't we better stick to what Miss Reade has taught us?" returned Dora doubtfully.
"We're to have 'soups and broths' at the next lesson," said Mabel.
"We can't wait for the next lesson!" urged Aldred. "I'll undertake the soup, and you can do the stew. I might make some bread sauce as well."