"Yes, ma'am."
"And you have n't any other that's really decent!"
"No, ma'am."
The woman sighed impatiently. "Helen, how can you answer like that when you know what it means to spoil that hat? Can't anything dampen your absurd high spirits?"
"'High spirits'!" breathed the girl. A quick flash leaped to her eyes. Her lips parted angrily; then, as suddenly, they snapped close shut. In another minute she had turned and left the room quietly.
Clothed in dry garments a little later, Helen set about the evening's tasks. At the first turn in the little room that served for both kitchen and dining-room she found the dinner dishes waiting to be cleared from the table—and there were unmistakable evidences of codfish-and-cream. As she expected, she had not long to wait.
"Helen," called a doleful voice from the sitting-room.
"Yes, mother."
"She brought codfish again to-day—five times this week; and you know how I dislike codfish!"
"Yes, I know, dear. I'm so sorry!"