"So'm I," said Bessie. And there were plenty to echo that.
"Well, if no one else will say it, I will," said Margery, presently. "This is a good dinner, if I did help cook it."
"No one ever praises your cooking any more; they're too busy eating," said Eleanor. "You established your reputation long ago."
"Well, this was the sort of dinner you couldn't spoil," admitted Margery, frankly. "And when people are frightfully hungry, you only waste your time if you do any really fine cooking for them. All they want is food, and they don't care much what it is, or how it's cooked."
"You don't go on that principle, though, Margery. I notice you take just as much trouble with your cooking whether it's likely to be appreciated or not."
"I do that for my own sake because I really enjoy cooking. I know what I'm going to do next year if I can. Teach cooking in the high school. And I think I can get the work, too."
"That's fine, Margery. I know you'll enjoy it."
"I think it will be pretty good fun. You know, it isn't only just the girls in school. A whole lot of older girls come down—brides, and girls who are going to be married. And they are the silliest things, sometimes!"
"Time's nearly up," said Eleanor, looking at her watch. "Bessie, signal four times with the smoke. I want to see if my watch is right by Mr. Hastings'."
Four times the smoke rose, and from the other peak rose two short answering smokes.