"False prophet! How dare you dream such a thing as that? Didn't we have a letter from her just two days ago saying she would reach here on to-day's train? And anyway, dreams always go by contraries, you know."
"It's mighty lucky they do in this case," Gloriana replied seriously. "But I woke in a cold sweat, the dream was so very real. I couldn't help wondering if something had delayed her so she wouldn't reach here as soon as we had expected."
"What a pessimist you are!" cried Tabitha, eyeing her companion in surprise. "You are usually just the opposite. What is the matter with you to-day, Glory?"
"Oh, I just somehow feel it in my bones that something is going to happen——"
"To be sure! Miss Davis is coming home and relieve us of our job."
"Something disappointing, I mean.
"Well, you just get that feeling out of your bones right away!" commanded Tabitha, thrusting the last pin into her shining, black hair and whisking into her big, kitchen apron. "You must have the rheumatism and that is bad for one's health. One more meal after this, and—exit Tabitha Catt and Gloriana Holliday, housekeepers."
Gloriana laughed, as, with a comical flourish and backward courtesy, the black-haired girl disappeared through the door, but her gay spirits were contagious, and presently the younger maid joined her companion in the kitchen, singing softly:
"'Maxwellton's braes are bonnie
Where early fa's the dew,
And 'twas there that Annie Laurie
Gave me her promise true.'"
"There, that sounds better," Tabitha commented. "Really, I was beginning to get shivers of misgiving myself from your gloomy forebodings in the other room. What shall we have for dinner in honor of the occasion? Green peas, asparagus tips, French potatoes and caramel pudding? Or shall we invest in some strawberries at two bits a box and have shortcake for dessert?"