“We might ask your cook to give us lessons in cooking!”
“No, my dear, we might not. I couldn’t consent to it. Most injudicious to display your ignorance before a person whom you have to command. You must think of something else.”
“We might go marketing, and learn what everything costs, and how much one ought to buy, and—”
“No use, my dear! We get nothing but meat and fish from the village. Fruit and vegetables come from the garden, and all the groceries from town.”
“We might sew.”
“Ha! I have it!” cried Peggy dramatically. “We’ll dress-make! What a joke! We’ll each make a blouse, and wear them at dinner one evening. It will be delightful. Every girl ought to be able to make her own clothes, and it’s so simple, so easy.”
“Is it?” Eunice arched her brows in surprise. “Have you ever tried?”
“Not exactly, but they were always doing it at the vicarage, and I used to help. I always drew the designs, and criticised the things when they were done. It’s quite easy. You get a pattern, pin it to the stuff, cut it out, run it up, and there you are.”
“And you really think I could manage?”
“Of course you could. We will work together, and I’ll help you. That’s to say, if you would like to try.”