JANE MAKES HERSELF USEFUL.
“I met Norah Villiers yesterday, girls,” said Ada Orlingbury to her sister and Marion as they all took their seats at the breakfast-table on a gusty February morning.
“I wonder you had the audacity to speak to anyone so grand!” laughed Jane.
Norah Villiers was an old school friend who had married a very wealthy man.
“Oh, Norah is very sensible! She never had any nonsense about her! Her money has not turned her head, as happens to some people. She looked perfectly charming in a sweet little toque all over violets, and she was so pleased to see me. But I could not help laughing to myself to find how very elderly and staid she had grown. Not in appearance, you know, but in manner.”
“I suppose she gave a great deal of motherly advice for the benefit of three young things living together in an unprotected condition!” said Jennie. “What did she advise? Burglar-proof window fasteners, or cork soles, or what?”
“Don't talk nonsense, Jane!” said Ada severely. “She has made some excellent discoveries in the course of her housekeeping, and now that she is so wealthy she hails any very economical discovery with glee, as so many do when there is no longer any reason to restrict oneself within narrow limits. We talked for ten minutes on the subject of Australian meat, and she charged me solemnly to deliver the glorious news to you.”
“What news?” asked Marion smiling.
“Norah declares that hardly anybody knows how to cook Australian meat properly; but that when it is treated in the right way, it is as good as any meat for which one could wish. And as it is much cheaper, that is good news to us if it be true.”
“What does she recommend should be done to it?” asked Jane. “It has always been tough whenever I have tasted it.”