But would the dog wait?
CHAPTER VIII
A VISITOR
Supper at the mansion was always a rather stiff and formal affair, but on this evening the tension was somewhat relaxed. The Misses Gates chatted pleasantly with the girls, making them feel entirely at their ease.
The table had been laid with an elaborately embroidered tablecloth, of good quality but slightly yellowed with age. The dishes, the cut glass, and the silver were of the best. Two tall candles in pewter holders lighted the room. Cora Sully, fairly presentable in white cap and apron, brought the food in from the kitchen, but she served it in an indifferent fashion.
“Cora really is an excellent cook,” Iris said half apologetically, when the woman had returned to the kitchen.
“Yes, indeed,” Doris agreed quickly.
She had no fault to find with the supper, for the creamed chicken was delicious, the biscuits light, the salad crisp and fresh. It was only that she had taken a dislike to Cora and wondered why the Misses Gates kept such a slouchy, sullen woman.
“Mrs. Sully has been with us for some time,” Iris continued. “She was the daughter of our former dressmaker, but she married a man that was no good. Undoubtedly he means well but he is shiftless, and finds it hard to obtain work. We took them both in.”
“I see,” Doris murmured.
She scarcely knew what to reply, and Kitty was leaving the burden of the conversation to her.