he deserved; for Grace Mary is amiable if she's ignorant; and I
should say had tact, though some people might call it cunning. But, at
any rate, she's the daughter of one baronet and the sister of
another."

"What's a baronet?" Beth demanded, tumbling off the window-seat on to
the floor with a crash as she spoke, having lost her balance in
peering round the curtain.

Both ladies jumped, quite contrary to their principles.

"You naughty child, how dare you?" Mrs. Caldwell began.

Beth picked herself up. "I want to know," she interrupted.

"You've been listening."

"No, I've not. I was here first, and you came and talked. But that
doesn't matter. I shan't tell. What's a baronet?"

Aunt Victoria explained, and then turned her out of the room. Uncle
James was crossing the hall at the moment; he had a large bunch of
keys in his hand, and went through the double-doors which led to the
kitchen and offices. Beth followed him into the kitchen. The cook, an
old servant, came forward curtseying. The remains of yesterday's
dinner, cold roast beef, tongue, chicken, and plum-pudding, were
spread out on the table. Uncle James inspected everything.

"For luncheon," he said, "the beef can remain cold on the sideboard,
also the tongue. The chicken you will grill for one hot dish, and do
not forget to garnish with rolls of bacon. The pudding you can cut
into slices, fry, and sprinkle with a little sifted sugar. Mind, I say
a little; for, as the pudding is sweet enough already, the sugar is
merely an ornament to make it agreeable to the eye. For the rest, as
usual."

"Yes, sir. And dinner, sir?"

"Here is the _menu_." He handed her a paper. "I will give you out what
is necessary."

He led the way down a stone passage to the store-room door, which he
unlocked.

"I am out of sifted sugar, sir," the cook said nervously.

"What, again?" Uncle James sternly demanded. "This is only Thursday,
and I gave you some out on Saturday."

"Yes, sir, but only a quarter of a pound, sir, and I had to use it for
the top of the rice-pudding, and the pancakes, and the Charlotte
Russe, and the plum-pudding----"

"How?" said Uncle James--"the plum-pudding, which is not yet fried?"

"Beg pardon, sir. I'm all confused. But, however," she added
desperately, "the sugar is done."

"Well, I suppose I must give you some more this time. But do not let
it occur again. You may weigh out a quarter of a pound."

When that was done, Uncle James consul