To her surprise, she found the cook with hat and coat on, reading a newspaper at the kitchen table. "Why"—Luella tried to think of the name—"why, what's the matter, Mrs.——"
"Mrs. Danski is my name."
"What's the matter?"
"I'm afraid I won't be able to accommodate you," said Mrs. Danski. "You see, I'm only a plain cook, and I'm not used to preparing invalid's food."
"But I've counted on you."
"I'm very sorry." She shook her head stubbornly. "I've got my own health to think of. I'm sure they didn't tell me what kind of a job it was when I came. And when you asked me to clean out your husband's room, I knew it was way beyond my powers."
"I won't ask you to clean anything," said Luella desperately. "If you'll just stay until to-morrow. I can't possibly get anybody else to-night."
Mrs. Danski smiled politely.
"I got my own children to think of, just like you." It was on Luella's tongue to offer her more money, but suddenly her temper gave way.
"I've never heard of anything so selfish in my life!" she broke out. "To leave me at a time like this! You're an old fool!"