like that," declared Mary, with
a toss of her head, as she settled herself in the big arm chair in the
sitting room, and poor Ricka, whose turn it was this week to prepare the
meals, found herself in the embarrassing position of compulsory cook for
at least two of the men she most heartily despised in the camp, and this
too under the displeasure of both Alma and Mary.

"What shall I do?" groaned Ricka, appealing to me in her extremity.
"Will you sit at table with them tonight, Mrs. Sullivan? because Alma
and Mary will not, and I must pour the coffee. O, dear, what shall I
have for supper?" and the poor girl looked fairly bowed down with
anxiety.

"O, never mind them, Ricka," said I, "just give them what you had
intended to give the rest of us. I suppose they think this is a
roadhouse, and, if so, they can as well board here as others; but if
Alma refuses to take them, I do not see what they can do but keep away,"
argued I, knowing both Alma and Mary too well by this time to expect
them to change their verdict, as, indeed, I had no desire for them to
do.

"I'm sure it is not a roadhouse for men of their class," growled Alma,
biting her thread off with a snap, for she was sewing on Mollie's dress,
and did not wish to be hindered. "I'll not eat my supper tonight till
they have eaten; will you, Mary?"

"Indeed, I will not," was the reply from a pair of very set lips, at
which Ricka and I retired to the kitchen to consult together, and
prepare the much-talked-of meal.

Then I proceeded to spread the table with a white cloth and napkins,
arrange the best chairs, and make the kitchen as presentable as I could
with lamps, while Ricka went to work at the range. We had a passable
supper, but not nearly so good as we usually have, for the official had
not only taken us by surprise, but had come unbidden, and was not, (by
the express orders of the business head of the restaurant firm), to be
made welcome.

At any rate, Ricka and I did the best we could under the circumstances,
the meal passed in some way, and the official then renewed his request
to be allowed to take all his meals in the Mission, meeting with nothing
but an unqualified refusal, much to his evident disappointment.

I doubt very much now the probability of my getting any more copying to
do for him, as he says I could have persuaded Alma to board him if I had
been so inclined; but then I never was so inclined, and have about
decided that I do not want his w