the door, dispelling sterner thoughts. "Ah," he said, sniffing the air
with evident approbation, "I was about going, but I don't mind if I stay
and try a few. Your make, Phebe?"

"No," answered Phebe, shortly, moving just out of reach of the bland old
hand, which stretched itself out to chuck her under the chin, and was
left patting the air with infinite benevolence "mother made them."

"All wrong," commented Mrs. Upjohn. "All wrong. You should not leave your
mother any work that you could spare her. One of the first things I
taught our Maria" (Mrs. Upjohn in Mr. Hardcastle's presence always said
_our_ Maria with great distinctness),--"one of the first things I taught
her was, that it was her privilege to save me in every thing. I don't
believe in idleness for girls. Aren't you ready yet to attend to these
crewels, Phebe? Miss Brooks is snarling them terribly."

"Phebe's really a very good girl in her way though," remarked Mrs.
Hardcastle, indulgently, from her easy chair. "I will testify that she
can make quite eatable cake at a pinch."

Phebe secretly thought Mrs. Hardcastle ought to know. She remembered her
once spoiling a new-made company loaf by slashing into it without so much
as a by-your-leave.

"That was very nice cake Miss Lynch gave us last night," piped in
Miss Delano.

"Too much citron," pronounced Mrs. Upjohn, decisively. "You should never
overload your cake with citron. It turns it out heavy, as sure as there's
a sun in the heavens."