"I realized that something strange was going on, and though Angelina covered herself with glory so far as the cooking was concerned, she certainly did not appear an expert waitress. Then, my dear, if you had only given me a hint of the situation, I need not have perjured myself to Mrs. Tilworth. She thought everything so exquisitely seasoned that I told her all about the cook, how she had lived at Dr. Gostar's and later at Mrs. Rowe's. I admitted that the menu was a little different from what I had expected, but still—"
"Excuse me, mamma—but why do you suppose the cook left?"
To this question Mrs. Stratford had no answer.
CHAPTER VII
A DROP OF INK
"Somehow I find it awfully hard to settle down to work," said Martine to one of the girls at school a day or two after Washington's Birthday. "I don't know whether it's the holiday—or what."
"It's 'what,' I think; vacations ought not to hurt us, they are meant to set one up."
"How literal you are! Look at Priscilla; she's as busy as can be. She knows how to study at school; but then of course there couldn't have been anything very exciting in a Plymouth holiday; but although she was away only two days I do wonder that she can study so in school."
"It's a sensible thing, all the same, and saves home study. I begrudge more than an hour a day out of school, and if you don't work here, you surely have to spend three or four hours there."