“They’re supposed to be eaten,” put in Helen mildly. “But really, Winnie, I think you have rather a hard job. There’s not nearly enough steak there for eight people. It was only intended for five in the first place.”
“That’s the game, isn’t it?” said Winona placidly. “Besides, I’m going to send Florence home to supper. It’s all right for her to attach herself to the party for the afternoon, but I draw the line at her inviting herself to a meal—don’t you think so, Louise?”
“I’m wid yez,” called Louise back from the gas-range, where she was doing something with sugar and water. “Bessie goes back, too.”
Winona got the chopping-machine, divided a big stalk of celery with Adelaide, made another excursion to the shelf over the ice-box for some peppers and onions, and began to grind her beefsteak.
“Croquettes?” inquired Louise curiously.
“No, scalloped meat,” answered Winona. “The croquettes won’t go as far, and there’ll be the cream gravy extra, and we’ll need milk for the cocoa. Besides, the deep fat to fry them would be another horrible extravagance.”
She put in a layer of meat as she spoke, then the ground celery and peppers and seasoning, and a generous layer of bread-crumbs.
“But aren’t celery and peppers an extravagance, too?” put in Adelaide, looking faintly interested. She was the only one of the four girls not busy. She had not started on her salad.
“They would be if they weren’t in the house,” said Winona carelessly, “though I don’t think they are costly this time of year. But I’m using them for their bulk. Mother flavors with celery seed when celery’s too high.”
She continued to build up her edifice of meat and crumbs and so forth, and finally drenched it with cold water and put it in the oven.