"Now, a sharp knife, Ellen, and the frying-pan and a dish and that's all I want of you."
Ellen brought them, and while he was busy with the ham, she made the coffee, and set it by the side of the fire to boil; got the cream and butter, and set the bread on the table; and then set herself down to rest, and amuse herself with Mr. Van Brunt's cookery. He was no mean hand: his slices of ham were very artist-like, and frying away in the most unexceptionable manner. Ellen watched him, and laughed at him, till the ham was taken out and all the eggs broke in; then, after seeing that the coffee was right, she went upstairs to dress her grandmother always the last thing before breakfast.
"Who's frying ham and eggs downstairs?" inquired Miss Fortune.
"Mr. Van Brunt," said Ellen.
This answer was unexpected. Miss Fortune tossed her head over in a dissatisfied kind of way, and told Ellen to "tell him to be careful."
"Of what?" thought Ellen; and wisely concluded with herself not to deliver the message, very certain she should laugh if she did, and she had running in her head an indistinct notion of the command, "Honour thy father and thy mother."
Breakfast was ready, but no one there when she got down- stairs. She placed her grandmother at table, and called Nancy, who all this time had been getting the clothes out of the rinsing water and hanging them out on the line to dry; said clothes having been washed the day before by Miss Sarah Lowndes, who came there for the purpose. Ellen poured out the coffee, and then in came Mr. Van Brunt with a head of early lettuce, which he had pulled in the garden and washed at the spout. Ellen had to jump up again to get the salt and pepper and vinegar; but she always jumped willingly for Mr. Van Brunt. The meals were pleasanter during those weeks than in all the time Ellen had been in Thirlwall before; or she thought so. That sharp eye at the head of the table was pleasantly missed. They with one accord sat longer at meals; more talking and laughing went on; nobody felt afraid of being snapped up. Mr. Van Brunt praised Ellen's coffee (he had taught her how to make it), and she praised his ham and eggs. Old Mrs. Montgomery praised everything, and seemed to be in particular comfort; talked as much as she had a mind, and was respectfully attended to. Nancy was in high feather; and the clatter of knives and forks and tea-cups went on very pleasantly. But at last, chairs were pushed from the table, and work began again.
Nancy went back to her tubs. Ellen supplied her grandmother with her knitting, and filled her snuff-box; cleared the table, and put up the dishes ready for washing. Then she went into the buttery to skim the cream. This was a part of the work she liked. It was heavy lifting the pans of milk to the skimming shelf before the window, but as Ellen drew her spoon round the edge of the cream, she liked to see it wrinkle up in thick, yellow, leathery folds, showing how deep and rich it was it looked half butter already. She knew how to take it off now, very nicely. The cream was set by in a vessel for future churning, and the milk, as each pan was skimmed, was poured down the wooden trough, at the left of the window, through which it went into a great hogshead at the lower kitchen door.
This done, Ellen went up stairs to her aunt. Dr. Gibson always came early, and she and her room must be put in apple-pie order first. It was a long, wearisome job. Ellen brought the basin for her, to wash her face and hands; then combed her hair, and put on her clean cap. That was always the first thing. The next was to make the bed; and for this Miss Fortune, weak or strong, wrapped herself up and tumbled out upon the floor. When she was comfortably placed again, Ellen had to go through a laborious dusting of the room and all the things in it, even taking a dustpan and brush to the floor, if any speck of dust or crumbs could be seen there. Every rung of every chair must be gone over, though never so clean; every article put up or put out of the way; Miss Fortune made the most of the little province of housekeeping that was left her; and a fluttering tape, escaping through the crack of the door, would have put her whole spirit topsy-turvy. When all was to her mind, and not before, she would have her breakfast, only gruel and biscuit, or toast and tea, or some such trifle, but Ellen must prepare it, and bring it up stairs, and wait till it was eaten. And very particularly it must be prepared, and very faultlessly it must be served, or, with an impatient expression of disgust, Miss Fortune would send it down again. On the whole, Ellen always thought herself happy when this part of her day was well over.
When she got down this morning she found the kitchen in nice order, and Nancy standing by the fire in a little sort of pause, having just done the breakfast dishes.