“Aunt Hannah and K-Kate.”
Bertram said a savage word under his breath.
“Holy smoke, Billy! I didn't marry you for a cook or a scrub-lady. If you had to do it, that would be another matter, of course; and if we did have to do it, we wouldn't have a big house like this for you to do it in. But I didn't marry for a cook, and I knew I wasn't getting one when I married you.”
Billy bridled into instant wrath.
“Well, I like that, Bertram Henshaw! Can't I cook? Haven't I proved that I can cook?”
Bertram laughed, and kissed the indignant lips till they quivered into an unwilling smile.
“Bless your spunky little heart, of course you have! But that doesn't mean that I want you to do it. You see, it so happens that you can do other things, too; and I'd rather you did those. Billy, you haven't played to me for a week, nor sung to me for a month. You're too tired every night to talk, or read together, or go anywhere with me. I married for companionship—not cooking and sweeping!”
Billy shook her head stubbornly. Her mouth settled into determined lines.
“That's all very well to say. You aren't hungry now, Bertram. But it's different when you are, and they said 'twould be.”
“Humph! 'They' are Aunt Hannah and Kate, I suppose.”