“Good morning, Miss,” said the delighted cook. “Oh, I am so happy to see you, Miss!”
“Thank you, Eliza. Did you have a message for me from Ethel?”
“Yes, Miss. Er—Ethel said she hoped you'd give me all the help you can, Miss, because—er, you see, Miss, cooking for a private family is very different from working in a college where there are so many, Miss.”
“I see. Well—what on earth are you doing to those potatoes, Eliza?”
“Mashing 'em, Miss.”
“What, with a hammer!”
“I washed the 'ammer, Miss.”
“Surely you didn't mash them that way at Maggie Hall, Eliza?”
“Yes, miss. The young ladies got so they couldn't abide them done any other way.”
Kathleen looked more closely, and examined the badly bruised tubers. “Good gracious,” she exclaimed, with a ripple of laughter. “They haven't been cooked yet!”