“Well, if you would like to, I shall be glad of your help.”
She took off her own spotless apron and gave it to Fidelia, and soon returned with another. Cousin Abby was a distant relation of the Austin family, who had come to live in the house in the young days of the doctor’s mother, first as help and then as housekeeper, and always as valued friend. She was an old woman now, and blest with a wisdom which does not always come with years. She was willing to place herself aside, and to acknowledge that the work which she had done so long could be done better by others now.
If it had cost her anything to give up the work and the responsibilities which had filled her life for so many years, no one knew it from any word of hers. She was sweet-tempered and intelligent. She had always “loved good reading,” as she said, and within certain limits she was well read. In the course of many Sunday afternoons she had read—a chapter or two at a time—the books of such of the grand old Puritans as found a place in the doctor’s library. The “Missionary Herald” and “The Puritan” were always sent first to cousin Abby’s room, and there were few of the questions, sectional or doctrinal, discussed in the one, and few of the missionaries or mission-fields presented in the other, during the last twenty years, with which she was not familiar. In the labourers in more than one mission-field she took personal interest, and gave good help to them in many ways. Her Christian influence was felt in the family, and extended beyond it. There was no one in the town of Eastwood who held a higher place in the general esteem or who deserved it more than did cousin Abby Chase.
“We are expecting company,” said cousin Abby; “and Mattie had a bigger wash than ordinary, and so I thought I’d better set to and make some cake and things to-day, to help along.”
“Company?” said Fidelia, her face betraying her doubt as to the pleasure of the prospect.
“Yes. We generally do have considerable company, summers, though we have been alone for a spell lately. We don’t trouble about company much. They take us as they find us mostly; but just to-day they are Boston folks that are coming, and I wish we had known it sooner. Mrs Austin had a little rather be prepared for such folks.”
“You must let me help you,” said Fidelia. “I don’t know much about such things—except just plain cooking; but I can do as you tell me.”
And so she did, to good purpose.
“You take hold as if you knew how,” said Miss Abby admiringly.
They had a long busy morning together in the front kitchen, and amidst the beating of eggs and the rolling of paste much pleasant talk went on between them. It was almost as good for Fidelia as a talk with Eunice would have been. When, later, Dr Austin passed through the room, he stopped a moment to shake his head at the array of good things which greeted both nose and eyes.