“Where did you learn to do things so well?” Josie asked their new manager, as she moved quickly around the tea room getting everything to rights in preparation for the afternoon. It was the custom for many of the young people of Dorfield to drop in at the Higgledy Piggledy, which had established a reputation for cinnamon toast and waffles baked on an electric iron.
“Training servants,” answered Ursula. “I have had dozens to break in at my home in Louisville. My stepfather was very difficult to please and my endeavor was to give him no just cause of complaint. I had to learn to do all kinds of things about the house well so that I could teach others. Mr. Cheatham was constantly dismissing the servants and then my work was all to be done over. I like this kind of work very much and do hope I can give satisfaction.” Ursula’s lip trembled as she spoke.
“Give satisfaction! Why, my dear girl, we think we have found a treasure in you. We only hope we can be the ones to give satisfaction. Please feel that we are your friends. In the first place, in our shop what Irene says goes. She doesn’t often make suggestions, being one of the most modest of human beings, but when she does we all of us agree with her. I have never known Irene to make a mistake in people. She has put me right on several persons.”
Josie then recounted to Ursula the tale of the Markles, a perfidious couple who had almost gotten away with all of Mary Louise’s wedding presents, and she gave Irene the credit for being the first one of all of the friends of the little bride to realize there was something shady about Felix and Hortense Markle.
“She always knows when people are the right sort, too,” added Josie, “and she gave you a mighty good name.”
“I am very happy at that,” said Ursula, a smile flashing for a moment over her sad countenance. “My little brothers are quite in love with Miss MacFarlane.”
“Oh, none of that, please!” interrupted Josie. “Don’t ‘Miss’ any of us. We are Irene and Elizabeth and Josie and you are Ursula.”
“All right!” blushed Ursula, “but I did not want to be too familiar. Anyhow the boys are very fond of Irene. Mrs. Conant is kind to them too and has asked them to make themselves at home in her yard. Now that school is over it is quite a problem to keep the little fellows happy.”
“How old are they?”
“Ben is ten and Philip, six.”