Charlotte Welles was an English woman five years older than Molly, who had known her long before her marriage to the rich banker, Mr. Welles.
When Molly and her mother were living in London in very economical lodgings at South Kensington, they had become acquainted with Mrs. Morris and her handsome daughter, whom at first they took to be an art-student at South Kensington. Charlotte had laughed merrily at the mistake.
“No, indeed, I’m a cooking-student.”
Then she had told Molly and her mother how it was that being certain she would have to earn her living, and, though generally clever, having no special talent for anything, she had chosen her career. “As for being a governess, I have neither patience nor meekness nor ability enough, and as cooking is just now coming to be a recognized profession for women who are not of the working-class, I decided on that. I don’t find many ladies among the thorough-going students like myself, but I do see that no profession offers greater rewards to a lady,—perhaps for that very reason; so I am qualifying myself to be a teacher.”
Molly’s mother, invalid as she was, had taught her daughter more than most girls know of housekeeping, and her own taste leaned that way, but no doubt her acquaintance with Charlotte Morris confirmed it; she went with her sometimes to the demonstrations and worked with her at home. When the latter left the school a medallist and went to Liverpool to lecture, Molly and her mother had gone to the south of France for the health of the latter, and there they heard of Charlotte’s success, how her grace and culture (and perhaps her beauty) made her much in request at ladies’ colleges and schools, and of the public lectures she gave. But her career was cut short, before it was well begun, by her engagement to an American banker of wealth,—an engagement speedily followed by marriage; and it was through Mrs. Welles that, after her mother’s death, on returning to her native country, Molly found the position as governess she had held up to her marriage with Harry Bishop. Several months before Molly came to Greenfield Mr. and Mrs. Welles had let their house and gone to England for a trip, but returned two months before the tenant’s term was up and had been living at one of the best hotels since.
True to her old instincts, Mrs. Welles attended all the best cooking-lectures in whatever city she might be, and after Molly’s marriage they had gone together to cooking-school and practiced at her house, which had been of incalculable service to Molly. Since her return to America they had not met. It is needless to say she looked forward to her visit with heartfelt pleasure, for she felt that to her acquaintance she owed very much.
And how these good things had come just in time!
To-day they were to have a regular boiled dinner, German soup made from the half leg of mutton boiled, and an egg beaten in it, the same that she had shown Mrs. Lennox how to make, and the mutton with caper sauce, mashed turnips and moulded potatoes, macaroni cheese, and pudding.
This dinner Marta could cook with written instructions, all but the pudding, and Molly, now she had jam, meant this to be an old-fashioned English jam roly-poly.
The written instructions were as follows: