"Have you cooked that roaster I sent down?"
"No, Mis' Plumfield, I ha'n't--it's such a plaguy sight of trouble!" said Cynthy with a little apologetic giggle;--"I was keepin' it for some day when I hadn't much to do."
"I'll take the trouble of it. I'll be down bright and early in the morning, and we'll see what's best to do. How's your last churning, Cynthy?"
"Well--I guess it's pretty middlin,' Mis' Plumfield."
"'Tisn't anything very remarkable, aunt Miriam," said Fleda shaking her head.
"Well, well," said Mrs. Plumfield smiling, "run away down home now, and I'll come to-morrow, and I guess we'll fix it. But who is it that grandpa has asked?"
Fleda and Cynthy both opened at once.
"One of them is my cousin, aunt Miriam, that was at West Point, and the other is the nicest English gentleman you ever saw--you will like him very much--he has been with me getting nuts all to-day."
"They're a smart enough couple of chaps," said Cynthia; "they look as if they lived where money was plenty."
"Well I'll come to-morrow," repeated Mrs. Plumfield, "and we'll see about it. Good night, dear!"