And she didn't. Mary Jane put the silver and the napkins and the pepper and salt and glasses and dishes all just as they should be. And at Grandmother's suggestion she put on a pat of butter and a glass of Grandfather's favorite jelly.
"How's the circus lady?" called Grandfather, who happened to come into the kitchen just then.
"She's gone," cried Mary Jane, "and a cook lady's come to visit you." And she skipped out from the dining-room to show him her cap.
"Well, I like circuses," said Grandfather solemnly, "but I must say that right at this minute I'd rather had a cook lady than a dozen circuses—so there! Who's getting dinner?" he added as he saw Grandmother working away at her jam.
"Mary Jane is," answered Grandmother "and I expected to be through by now to broil the steak—she's everything else ready. But," she added worriedly, "I simply can't stop for ten minutes and I know her potatoes are about done!"
"Is there another handkerchief around here somewhere?" asked Grandfather suddenly.
"In your drawer there's lots," said Mary Jane, but for the life of her she couldn't see what Grandfather meant.
"You get it," he said, and she dashed upstairs on the errand.
"There now," said Grandfather after she handed it to him, "how's that?" Mary Jane laughed and laughed at the funny sight. He had twisted the handkerchief around his head dusting cap style and was bowing to her in a grand fashion. "I guess I can cook too!" he declared, "bring on the steak!"
Mary Jane got the steak out of the ice box and helped him salt and pepper it; then, while he broiled it—yes, he did know how, Mary Jane had thought he was only fooling—she took up the potatoes and apples and got the pitcher of water.