"Sarepta! you dear, good soul! How could you—"
"This is sarce!" Sarepta continued, taking up another bag. "Sugar was low and fruit was high, so I done well there too. I made two hundred glasses of currant jell, and three hundred of grape, and—"
"But, Sarepta! What did you do with them all?"
"Sold 'em! Mis' Flynt wasn't puttin' up, herself, this year, didn't want to bother with it. No more did Miss Bygoods. And Mr. Mallow gi' me the hull of his order, so you see—"
"I see!" Kitty became thoughtful. "Sarepta—"
"Well!" the answer was a snap, thrown backward over an uncompromising shoulder. Sarepta was suddenly very busy at the stove, rattling and raking with much commotion.
"Sarepta! You didn't—you didn't ask for these orders, did you?"
Sarepta turned round; her face was like an iceberg carved with a jackknife.
"Was your Pa satisfied with me?"