"My word!" was all the young man could stammer.
"Is it as bad as all that?" she laughed.
"No—but—Great Hat—this is—is awful, you know."
"What is awful?" returned she, turning to face him.
"Why, having you come here and cook for us two men."
"Oh, I'm always cooking for somebody," was the matter-of-fact retort. "Why not you?"
"Well, it makes me feel like a—it doesn't seem right, somehow."
"It's as right as possible. I rather like it," said she, darting him a roguish look, then bending over the bowl before her.
"Well, you must let me help you, anyway. Can't I—I butter something?"
"Butter something!"