“That’s the most delicious smell that ever was!” said Agatha.

Sallie jumped up and pulled her apron straight.

“Lor’, Miss Redmond, how you scared me!  Couldn’t you sleep any longer?”

“I didn’t want to; I’m as good as new.  Tell me, Sallie, where all the people are.  Mr. Hand is in Mr. Hambleton’s room, I know, but where are the others?”

“I guess they’re all parceled round,” said Sallie with symptoms of sniffing.  “I don’t wanter complain, Miss Redmond, but we ain’t had any such a houseful since Parson Thayer’s last conference met here, and not so many then; only three ministers and two wives, though, of course, ministers make more work.  But I wouldn’t say a word, Miss Redmond, about the work, if it wasn’t for that young woman that puts on such airs coming and getting your tray.  I ain’t used to that.”

Sallie paused, like any good orator, while her main thesis gained impressiveness from silence.  It was only too evident that her feelings were hurt.

Agatha considered the matter, but before replying came farther into the kitchen and touched the tip of a finger to one of Sallie’s loaves, lifting it to show its golden brown crust.

“You’re an expert at bread, Sallie, I can see that,” she said heartily.  “I shouldn’t have got over my accident half so well if it hadn’t been for your good food and your care, and I want you to know that I appreciate it.”  She was reluctant to discuss the maid, but her cordial liking for Sallie counseled frankness.  “Don’t mind about Lizzie.  I thought you had too much to do, and that she might just as well help you, but if she bothers you, we won’t have it.  And now tell me where Mrs. Stoddard and the others are.”

Sallie’s symptoms indicated that she was about to be propitiated; but she had yet a desire to make her position clear to Miss Redmond.  “It’s all right; only I’ve taken care of the china for seventeen years, and it don’t seem right to let her handle it.  And she told me herself that anybody that had any respect for their hands wouldn’t do kitchen work.  And if her hands are too good for kitchen work, I’m sure I don’t want her messing round here.  She left the tea on the stove till it boiled, Miss Redmond, just yesterday.”

Agatha smiled.  “I’m sure Lizzie doesn’t know anything about cooking, Sallie, and she shall not bother you any more.”

Sallie turned a rather less melancholy face toward Agatha.  “It’s been fairly lonesome since the parson died.  I’m glad you’ve come to the red house.”  The words came from Sallie’s lips gruffly and ungraciously, but Agatha knew that they were sincere.  She knew better, however, than to appear to notice them.  In a moment Sallie went on:  “Mrs. Stoddard, she’s asleep in the front spare room.  Said for me to call her at twelve.”

“Poor woman!  She must be tired,” said Agatha.

“Aunt Susan’s a stout woman, Miss Redmond.  She didn’t go to bed until she’d had prayers beside the young man’s bed, with Mr. Hand present.  I had to wait with the coffee.  And I guess Mr. Hand ain’t very much used to our ways, for when Aunt Susan had made a prayer, Mr. Hand said, ‘Yes, ma’am!’ instead of Amen.”