She looked at her black dress and gloves and parasol.
"I didn't know as there was to be cookin'. I've got my best dress on."
"You can put on an apron," I said gently.
She wavered.
Dimbie opened the door for her as he would have opened it for a duchess, and looked at her.
She rose, carefully placed her parasol and prayer-book on the chair in order to reserve it for future use, and unwillingly went out of the room.
"Move the chair quickly," I gasped, "and hide the parasol and prayer-book. That woman must never be permitted to stare at me again or I shall go mad. How could you tell her that she might come in to hear the health of the bride and bridegroom drunk?"
"She asked me. What could I say?" said Dimbie ruefully.
"And dressed up as though she were going to a funeral——"
Dimbie began to laugh.