But Dolf interposed again, and luckily Clo's nostrils detected the odor of burning pie-crust, and she rushed into the kitchen to see if the girl had allowed her pastry to burn.
Dolf took that opportunity to soothe the angry Victoria, and succeeded admirably.
"Now, Miss Clorindy," said Dolf, when she had relieved her feelings by abusing Sally for her carelessness about the pies, and was once more tranquilly occupied with her work; "now, Miss Clorindy, jis' glorify us wid yer 'pinion 'bout de 'fairs ob dis dwellin' which we has all noticed is more mysteriouser dan is pleasant."
"I ain't gwine ter talk, jis' ter be snapped up like a beetle by a Shanghai," said Clo; "shan't do it, nohow."
Dolf winked at Victoria, and the artful maiden condescended to mollify her fellow servant.
"Now don't be cross, Clo," said she, "it's bad enough ter hab conflictions above stairs widout us a mussin'."
"Dem's my sentiments," cried Dolf, "and I knows fair Miss Clorinda 'grees wid dem—she coincidates, if yer'll 'scuse the leetle bit ob dictionery."
Victoria made a grimace behind Clo's back, but said, graciously:
"I'se gwine ter gib yer dat ar blue handkercher Miss Elsie gub me, Clo," she said, "so now let's make up and be comfoble."
"I don't want ter fight," replied Clo, "'taint my way—only I knows my persition and I 'spects ter be treated 'cording."