"I often helped the servants at home," said Kathleen. "Why isn't Alice good-natured?"
"She's made contrairy, I expect, miss."
"Cut on the cross, I call it," said cook, who came forward at this juncture and offered a chair to Kathleen.
"Well, if that's the case I'm sorry for her," said Kathleen. "It must be very unpleasant to feel sort of peppery-and-salty and cross-grained all the time."
"It isn't what you ever feel, miss," said cook with an admiring glance at the young lady.
Kathleen fixed her deep-blue roguish eyes on the good woman's face.
"No," she said, "I don't think I am cross-grained. By the way, cook, wouldn't you like a black silk apron embroidered with violets to wear when you have done all your dirty work in the kitchen?"
"Cooks don't wear black silk aprons embroidered with violets," was the good woman's answer.
"But this cook might, if a nice Irish girl, who has plenty of money, gave it to her. I have it in the bottom of my trunk. I asked Aunt Katie O'Flynn to send it to me for your mistress, but your mistress doesn't care for it. I will give it to you, cook.—And, Maria, I've got a little toque for you. It is sky-blue with forget-me-nots. Have you a young man, Maria? Most girls have, haven't they? Wouldn't you like to walk out with him in a sky-blue toque trimmed with forget-me-nots?"
"It puts me all in a flutter to think of it, miss," said Maria. "I am sure a sweeter young lady never came into this house."