“Never you mind,” said Polly, shutting up her box. “It’s finished now, and quite ready for father to see to-night. I’m going to become a very important personage, Miss Doll—so you’d better begin to treat me with respect. Oh, dear, where’s the cookery book? Helen, do you know where the ”Lectures on Elementary Cookery“ is? Just fancy, Nell, cook doesn’t know how much pepper should go to a gallon of soup! Did you ever hear of such shameful ignorance?”
“Why, you surely have not been speaking to her on the subject?” said Helen, who was busily engaged darning Bunny’s socks; she raised her head and looked at Polly in some surprise as she spoke.
“Oh, have I not, though?” Polly’s charming, merry face twinkled all over.
“I saw Susan crying just now,” interposed Mabel. “She said Polly had been—why, what is the matter, Poll?”
“Nothing,” said Poll, “only if I were you, Mabel, I wouldn’t tell tales out of school. I’m going to be a person of importance, so if you’re wise, all of you, you’ll keep at my blind side. Oh dear! where is that cookery book? Girls, you may each tell me what puddings you like best, and what cake, and what dish for breakfast, and——”
But here the dinner gong put an end to a subject of much interest.