"Cousin Ted," she remarked, as she came forward and perched herself on the arm of Theodora's chair; "I have a bright idea."
"Not really?" This from Billy.
"Yes, really. Patrick is no use, and you can't get anybody. Borrow old Susan from The Savins. She isn't good for much but staple commodities, roast beef and things; but I'll help her out. I know something about cooking, not much, but better than nothing; and then I'll serve it."
"Cis, you sha'n't."
"I'd like no better fun. Your man has never heard of me; you don't know what a stunning maid I'd look in a cap and pinafore. I always did love dressing up, and this will be such fun. May't I, please?"
She took Theodora by the chin and turned her face upward; and Theodora as she looked into the merry eyes above her, weakly gave her consent. It was not easy to face a domestic crisis; it was still less easy to face Cicely when her dimples were coming and going and her eyes as full of fun as they were now.
"Allyn," Cicely said breathlessly, as she dashed into the library at The Savins, half an hour later; "you are invited to a dinner party at our house, this day week."
"Thanks. I'll come, and please have lots of sticky jelly things."
"But you aren't invited to eat. I want you in the kitchen to help me."
"Not much! I'm going somewhere else, that night."