Moreover, Huldah
Jane Keyson, our tried and trusty old family nurse and cook and
general "boss," had what she called the "realagy" in her
shoulder; and, though Huldah Jane is as good an old creature as
ever lived, when she has the "realagy" other people who are in
the house want to get out of it and, if they can't, feel about as
comfortable as St. Lawrence on his gridiron.
And on top of this came Aunt Cynthia's call and request.
"Dear me," said Aunt Cynthia, sniffing, "don't I smell smoke?
You girls must manage your range very badly. Mine never smokes.
But it is no more than one might expect when two girls try to
keep house without a man about the place."
"We get along very well without a man about the place," I said
loftily. Max hadn't been in for four whole days and, though
nobody wanted to see him particularly, I couldn't help wondering
why. "Men are nuisances."
"I dare say you would like to pretend you think so," said Aunt
Cynthia, aggravatingly. "But no woman ever does really think so,
you know. I imagine that pretty Anne Shirley, who is visiting
Ella Kimball, doesn't. I saw her and Dr. Irving out walking this
afternoon, looking very well satisfied with themselves. If you
dilly-dally much longer, Sue, you will let Max slip through your
fingers yet."
That was a tactful thing to say to ME, who had refused Max Irving
so often that I had lost count. I was furious, and so I smiled
most sweetly on my maddening aunt.
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