She left them together presently and went off to the kitchen. Here she covered from view with a big pinafore her own undeniably attractive figure and fell upon her task, proceeding to dispatch it with all the speed compatible with quiet. She had cleared the table, and, having arranged her dishes in orderly piles, was just filling her dishpan with the steaming water which made suds as it fell upon the soap, when a familiar footstep was heard upon the bare kitchen floor.
Georgiana looked over her shoulder, words of reproof upon her lips: "Well—having come without an invitation, the least you can do is to stay where you belong and entertain the guest."
"There's a characteristic welcome for you!" The intruder seemed in no wise daunted by his reception, but picked up a dish towel and stood at ease, waiting the placing of the first tumbler in the rinsing pan. "And where should I belong, if not standing by a chum in distress?"
"I'm not in distress, if you please."
"Don't mind washing dishes while the guest sits by the fire?"
"Not a bit—more than usual," Georgiana amended honestly.
"Why don't you pile 'em up and let 'em wait till morning?"
"I shouldn't sleep for thinking of them."
"My word, but you're a hustler! I don't know whether I can keep up."
"Don't try. Go back to the other room, please, Jimps. You can be of real use there."