"I thought you were making that salad for luncheon, dear."
I sprang from my chair as if shot, and stared at him wildly. He regarded me with alarm.
"So I was!" I shrieked, in a whisper. I wrung my hands, and so great was my anguish that tears came into my eyes.
"There! There, dearie!" said Aubrey, kindly. "Don't mind, little girl! It would have been too much with all the rest of your lovely luncheon. It will go much better tonight."
"You are an angel," I said, brokenly, "but I'll feel a little easier in my mind after I have killed Mary."
It was hot, but I ran all the way to the house. I found Mary. The light of battle was in my eye, and she quailed before I spoke.
"Where was that lobster salad?" I demanded.
She turned pale, and sank into a chair. I simply stood glaring at her. She peeked through her fingers to see if I were relenting as usual, but as I still looked blood-thirsty, she began to cry. She covered her head with her apron, and rocked herself back and forth.
"I forgot it, Missis dear! Kick me if you want to. I'll not say I don't deserve it, but since I burst me stomach I can't remember anything!"
"Since you what?" I gasped, in horror.