“Furthermore,” Hester went on, “as it is already half after eleven, I move we let bygones be bygones and make this breakfast a dinner.”
“All right,” said Marjorie; “go on, and cook whatever you like, whichever way you want to.”
So the English sister and her chum disappeared.
“Now, my fellow-sufferers,” said their president, “we’ve got to have some sort of a system. We thought it was going to be such lots of fun to do all the work, and already we’re sneaking out of it. Do you want to give up the scheme and go home?”
“No!” chorused the crowd.
“Well, then, here’s my plan, and any one can improve upon it who wants to. We’ll have three meals a day, with dinner at noon and a supper or high tea at six o’clock, and we’ll take turns by twos. Two is enough to have in the kitchen at once besides Rosie, and then, having four pairs of people and three meals, we won’t have to cook the same kinds of things each time. Am I clear?”
“Clear as mud,” said Millicent; “your plan would be lucid to a doddering idiot.”
“That’s why you understand it so thoroughly,” returned the president, with a withering glance at the enchanted princess.
“Now Helen and Hester are getting dinner to-day, so suppose Marguerite and Nan take charge to-night; then Millikens and I will get breakfast for you to-morrow morning,—and we’ll do it, too,—and Betty and Jessie can dine us, and so on over again.”
All agreed that the plan was fair, and Marguerite announced that any one who felt at all incapable could call on her for assistance at any time, and she would always be glad to cook, whether it was her turn or not.