“But the house seems to be very completely furnished as it is.”
“No, not yet. If you look around you’ll see lots of things that aren’t here.”
Mrs. Betty quite raved over the salad, made of lettuce, oranges, walnuts and a mayonnaise dressing. Then there came ice cream and chocolate sauce, followed by black coffee.
“This is quite too much, Mrs. Burke. You must be a superb cook. I am horribly afraid you’ll have spoiled Donald, so that my cooking will seem very tame to him,” Mrs. Betty remarked.
“Well, never mind, Mrs. Betty. If worst comes to worst there are seven pans of soda biscuit secreted around the premises somewhere; so don’t be discouraged. There are lots of things you can do with a soda biscuit, if you know how. Now we’ll just clear the table, and wash the dishes, and put things away.”
When about nine o’clock she arose to go, Maxwell took both Hepsey’s hands in his and said quietly:
“Mrs. Burke, I’m more indebted to you than I can possibly say, for all you have done for us. I wish I 129 knew how to thank you properly, but I don’t.”
“Oh, never mind that,” Mrs. Burke replied, a mist gathering in her eyes, “it’s been lots of fun, and if you’re satisfied I’m more than pleased.” Then, putting her arm around Mrs. Betty’s waist, she continued:
“Remember that we’re not payin’ this nice little wife of yours to do parish work, and if people interfere with her you just tell em to go to Thunder Cliff. Good-by.”
She was turning away when suddenly she stopped, an expression of horror on her face: