“Your husband told me that you were keeping house for Miss Hamblyn; will it be long before she is back, do you expect?” the lady asked, her gentle, refined tones falling pleasantly on the ear.
“I don’t know about Miss Hamblyn, for she has gone to Goat’s Gulch, which is a goodish step from here. But Miss Lorimer will be in from school in about twenty minutes. Will you please to walk in and sit down; the other room is cooler than this one,” said Mrs. Peters, flinging the door wide open, and ushering the visitor in with an impressive air.
“What is this; a kitchen or a shop?” asked the lady, with an interested look around, as she passed through into the sitting-room.
“Both, ma’am; you see, being a cook-shop, there’s a lot of baking and boiling to be done somewhere, and as room is limited, it is better to do it on the spot,” said Mrs. Peters, with a brisk air.
“Decidedly. And how nice it smells! But what a lot of cakes and pies; who is going to eat them all?”
And the stranger paused before the big table, whereon were placed the results of the morning’s baking.
“The customers, to be sure, ma’am. There isn’t much doing until the evening when the miners leave work, but business is brisk then, and no mistake. I hope Miss Hamblyn will be back by that time, or poor Miss Lorimer will be nearly run off her feet.”
“I can help her; that is if she will let me,” said the lady, smiling again. Then she went down on her knees to make overtures to the fat Peters baby, who was crawling round the floor, and making occasional efforts to pull himself up by the chairs.
Mrs. Peters stared at the stranger in amazement. Her first thought had been that this must be Miss Alfreton, who had arrived sooner than was expected; but there was a wedding-ring on the lady’s white hands, for she had pulled off her gloves while playing with the baby.
Then curiosity got the better of the station-master’s wife, and she asked outright for the information she desired.