You got to order all
the meals and tell me what you want done every mornin'. I ain't goin'
to have people throwin' it in my face that I work for a lady that
don't know a skillet from a saucepan!"
"You're right, Myrtella," said Miss Lady, her face grown suddenly
grave. "I don't wonder you are ashamed of me. Perhaps some good hard
work will brush the cobwebs out of my brain. When shall I take charge
of things, to-morrow?"
"As you say," said Myrtella meekly; then with a sudden flare, "though
it does look like I might be trusted one more day to finish up the
general cleaning and git after the ashman for not emptyin' them
barrels."
"Friday, then?"
"Friday," said Myrtella as one who signed her own death warrant, and
the young mistress gazing absently out of the window little guessed
that a powerful usurper was voluntarily abdicating a throne in order
that the rightful owner might come into her own.
CHAPTER XIV
The red lamps were all lighted in Mrs. Ivy's small parlor, and the
disordered tea-table and general confusion of the overcrowded room,
gave evidence that one of her frequent "at homes" had been brought to
an end.
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