Betty sniffed a little, and said that if Daisy was on time with her scheduled performances that was all that would be expected or required of her; at which Marguerite looked injured, but put her good intentions into practice at once by running down to help Hester.
The kitchen was already a scene of action. Hester possessed administrative power as well as executive ability, and while she roasted the beef and made the soup she directed her helpers, Helen and Rosie, so that everything was going on in the most systematic manner.
“Oh, do let me help you!” said Marguerite. “What are you going to have?”
“I only know how to cook a few things,” said Hester, “so I’m going to have those. Roast beef and Yorkshire pudding and browned potatoes. And I know two soups, bean and tomato. Bean is the best, but we didn’t have any beans, and anyway you have to soak ’em overnight; so I’m making the other.”
“Let me see you make it; I love to watch people cook. What do you do first?”
“Why, I’ve just put the tomatoes on to heat; one apiece,—that’s nine,—cut up in a quart of water. Then I threw in with them a small onion cut in bits, a couple of stalks of celery, and a little parsley. I would put in a bay-leaf if I had it, but I haven’t. Then a tablespoonful of sugar.”
“Sugar in soup! I never heard of such a thing.”
“Oh, yes, in tomato soup; and then a little pepper and a teaspoonful of salt. Now while that’s cooking I put a large tablespoonful of butter in this tiny spider. It melts quickly, and then I stir in a tablespoonful of flour. You see it’s a thin, smooth paste. Now the tomatoes are boiling, so I turn it in and stir while it thickens. Have you the colander ready, Rosie? Now I strain it all through the colander into this big bowl, and then turn it back again into the kettle, and set it on the back of the range until we want to use it. Now that’s done.”
“And it’s beautiful, too,” commented Marguerite. “I say, Hester, let’s have a salad.”
“No,” said Hester, decidedly; “I can’t make salad dressing, and I’m running this dinner myself. You can have salad when it’s your turn. If you want to help, go and set the table.” Hester’s manner was brusque and very matter-of-fact; but she meant no offense, and Marguerite knew it.