“Now I’ve done it!” she exclaimed crossly. “Splattered my stockings too.”
“Oh, that’s too bad,” said Penny, pausing.
“This is the only place I ever worked where the cook was expected to carry out the garbage!” the woman complained. “It makes me good and mad every time I do it.”
“I should think a house of this size would have an incinerator so that the garbage could be burned,” Penny remarked.
“Say, this place doesn’t have any conveniences for the servants,” the cook went on. “You’re expected to work, work, work from morning to night.”
She broke off quickly, regarding Penny with a suspicious gaze. “You’re not one of Miss Sylvia’s guests?” she demanded.
“Oh, no, I only came here on an errand. I wouldn’t repeat anything to the family.”
“That’s all right then,” the woman said in relief. “I liked my job here well enough until lately. All month it’s been one dinner party after another. Then we spent days getting ready for the wedding feast and not one scrap of food was touched!”
“But I suppose Mrs. Kippenberg pays you well.”
“Listen, she didn’t give me one extra cent for all the work I did. Mrs. Kippenberg always has been real close, and she’s a heap worse since her husband went away. Another week like this last one and I quit!”