“Well, I’m sure you didn’t mean to spill the pie, though perhaps it would have been just as well for you to have stayed out of the kitchen when your sister was baking. I wonder if your mother would mind if I went out to see if there is anything I could do?”
“I guess she’d be glad to have you,” Ted answered.
“I suppose it is rather odd of me, on my first visit, to go into a strange, kitchen—especially when a pie has been spilled,” went on the caller. “But I know just how your sister must feel.”
“Come on out,” invited Ted, backing through the hall door in the direction of the kitchen.
“I’ll just take off some of my things,” said Mrs. Keller, removing her hat and gloves.
Janet, meanwhile, had been standing in the middle of the disordered kitchen, wondering who it was that had rung the bell. She heard the murmur of voices, but the tones (except for those of Ted) were not those of any acquaintance. At last Janet could stand her curiosity no longer.
Tiptoeing to the door that led into the hall, she opened it slightly and hoarsely, whispered:
“Who is it, Ted?”
At that moment Ted was escorting the lady caller down the hall, and he almost bumped into Janet as he answered:
“It’s Mrs. Keller!”