"What have they left for your dinner?" said Lois, going to rummage.
"Grandma, here's nothing at all!"
"An egg'll do, dear. They didn't calkilate for you."
"An egg will do for me," said Lois, laughing; "but there's only a crust of bread."
"Madge calkilated to make tea biscuits after she come home."
"Then I'll do that now."
Lois stripped up the sleeves from her shapely arms, and presently was very busy at the great kitchen table, with the board before her covered with white cakes, and the cutter and rolling pin still at work producing more. Then the fire was made up, and the tin baker set in front of the blaze, charged with a panful for baking. Lois stripped down her sleeves and set the table, cut ham and fried it, fried eggs, and soon sat opposite Mrs. Armadale pouring her out a cup of tea.
"This is cosy!" she exclaimed. "It is nice to have you all alone for the first, grandma. What's the news?"
"Ain't no news, child. Mrs. Saddler's been to New London for a week."
"And I have come home. Is that all?"
"I don't make no count o' news, child. 'One generation passeth away, and another generation cometh; but the earth abideth for ever.'"