"No, Miss Alice he's at Carra-carra Thomas heard him say he wouldn't be back early."
"Well, I shall not wait for him. Margery, if you will put the kettle on and see to the fire, I'll make some of my cakes for tea."
"I'll do it, Miss Alice; it's not good for you to go so long without eating."
Alice now rolled up her sleeves above the elbows, and tying a large white apron before her, set about gathering the different things she wanted for her work, to Ellen's great amusement. A white moulding-board was placed upon a table as white; and round it soon grouped the pail of flour, the plate of nice yellow butter, the bowl of cream, the sieve, tray, and sundry etceteras. And then, first sifting some flour into the tray, Alice began to throw in the other things one after another, and toss the whole about with a carelessness that looked as if all would go wrong, but with a confidence that seemed to say all was going right. Ellen gazed in comical wonderment.
"Did you think cakes were made without hands?" said Alice, laughing at her look. "You saw me wash mine before I began."
"Oh! I'm not thinking of that," said Ellen; "I am not afraid of your hands."
"Did you never see your mother do this?" said Alice, who was now turning and rolling about the dough upon the board in a way that seemed to Ellen curious beyond expression.
"No, never," she said. "Mamma never kept house, and I never saw anybody do it."
"Then your aunt does not let you into the mysteries of bread and butter-making!"
"Butter-making! Oh," said Ellen, with a sigh, "I have enough of that!"