POLLY'S HOUSEKEEPING.
"I'm going now, miss," remarked Mary's voice at the foot of the front stairs.
"Go on, then," said Polly, with dignity, turning to Molly to add, "She wouldn't dare do that if mamma were here. Then she never thinks of calling to us, like this."
Peeping stealthily out at the front window, the girls watched her as she walked off, dressed in her state and festival suit. Then they descended to the kitchen to survey their field of operations.
"She's left it in splendid order, and there's a hot fire; that's one good thing," said Polly, lifting the stove lid to look in.
"With a fire and a cook-book, we can work wonders," said Molly.
"Now, Polly, let's plan."
"All right." And Polly sat down on the wood-box. "What shall we have for lunch? That comes first."
"I'll tell you," suggested Molly suddenly, as if struck with a brilliant idea; "let's not have much for lunch. Your father won't be here, so we can eat up whatever was left over from breakfast, and have all our time for the dinner."
"But 'tisn't time to get dinner now; it's only eleven o'clock," said Polly.
"Yes, it is time," returned Molly. "I want to try a lemon pudding for dessert, if he likes them, and it takes ever so much time, I know. We must feed him up well, so he won't look thin to your mother when, she gets back."