"That is very late," she returned. "Father rises early and needs his breakfast at once."
I said I would see that he had it as early as he liked, while I foresaw that this would cost me a battle with the divinity who reigned in the kitchen.
"You need not trouble yourself. I will speak to my brother about it," she said.
"Ernest has nothing to do with it," I said, quickly.
She looked at me in a speechless way, and then there was a long silence, during which she shook her head a number of times. At last she inquired: "Did you make the bread we had on the table to-night?"
"No, I do not know how to make bread," I said, smiling at her look of horror.
"Not know how to make bread?" she cried. The very spirit of mischief got into me, and made me ask:
"Why, can you?"
Now I know there is but one other question I could have asked her, less insulting than this, and that is:
"Do you know the Ten Commandments?"