"You are in splendid condition, Elfreda," praised Mrs. Gray. Grace nodded emphatic approval.
"Yes, I'm strong enough to hustle furniture, beat rugs, scrub floors, or do anything else necessary to the beautifying and eternal improvement of Harlowe House." Then she added slyly, "Lead me to it."
"You'll be led to it fast enough," promised Grace. "Just wait until we have some breakfast."
At that moment Mrs. Elwood appeared in the open doorway. "Shall I bring your breakfast upstairs this morning?" she asked. "I thought Mrs. Gray might like to have it in her room."
"Thank you, but I'd rather go downstairs this morning," nodded the energetic old lady. "May we breakfast a la negligee?"
"Yes, come down just as you are. There is no one here besides myself and the maid."
"Miss Briggs, have you had your breakfast? Jane is making waffles. I thought you—"
"Waffles!" exclaimed Elfreda, rolling her eyes in ecstacy. "If I'd had fifty breakfasts I couldn't resist waffles. Thank goodness Vinton's wasn't open."
"Aren't waffles supposed to be fattening?" inquired Grace judiciously.
"Don't ask me," was Elfreda's fervent protest. "I've set my mind on eating them, even though I have to walk to Hunter's Rock and back in the glare of the noonday sun to counteract their deadly effects."