"Dear Bee!" said Mrs. Jimmie, softly. "How charming she is!"
"Yet she wouldn't approve of your going to Clovertown," said Jimmie.
"She hates the bucolic. Idyls and pastorals are not in it with our rue
de la Paix Bee. I'll bet she will never come to see you at Peach
Orchard."
"Let us hope for the best," said Aubrey. "It is dangerous to prophesy."
"We're going to keep a cow, Jimmie!" I said, rapturously.
"Well, don't gurgle about it. You act as if keeping a cow put the stamp of the Four Hundred on you. Did Mary say you might?"
"Mary has given her consent," said Aubrey. "But I'm wondering how that old woman will behave with other servants. Of course she was all right while there was no one else and she was boss of the ranch, but we must have two or three now at Peach Orchard, and she is so jealous, I wonder if she will let us live with her!"
Well might we have wondered. Trouble began the very next day. As we went out on the train I noticed that Mary had on her best dress and hat. She had no bag with her, so I wondered how she meant to "settle" in such clothes. The Angel and I had on our worst.
I comforted myself with the reflection that there would not be very much dirty work to do. This would in reality be a kid-glove moving, for Mr. Close had telephoned the day before that everything was ready for us to move in. I had even sent a cleaning woman for floors and windows.
I had taken the precaution to bring a few silver knives, forks, and spoons in my bag. Then as we got off the train I stopped at a grocery and bought a loaf of bread, a tin of devilled ham, one of sardines, some butter, and a dozen eggs, so we were at least sure of our luncheon.
We jumped out of the carriage almost before it had stopped, and, while
Aubrey paid the man, I ran up the steps and into the house.