here she was to sleep she hunted
around in the kitchen safe for the cook book, wondering if by any chance
she could induce her mother to let her try her hand at baking a cake
also.

"Go to bed, in there!" growled a voice from the other room, and the girl
climbed to her pallet, on which dreams of cooking were to entertain her
waking as well as her sleeping hours.

Elizabeth's cooking schemes turned out rather better than she had
expected. There are some things common to all women, and Mrs. Farnshaw
entered into her daughter's desire to learn to cater to the appetite of
the man she was going to marry. She worked with the girl at the home-made
kitchen table, and as they worked she talked of many things which to her
mind were essential to preparations for marriage, of the dresses to be
made, of the new house, which was Mrs. Farnshaw's pride, and of John
Hunter himself. By some unlucky chance Elizabeth mentioned her father's
name. Mrs. Farnshaw had been waiting for an opportunity to speak of the
misunderstanding between her husband and their daughter. It is the
tendency of the weak to waste much time and energy in reconciliations, and
to Mrs. Farnshaw peace meant far more than principles. She gave little
thought to the rightness of her husband's demands, but bent every faculty
toward coaxing her family to accede to them. If he were angry, all must
move in cautious attempt to placate his temper, and if his feelings were
hurt no principle must be permitted to stand in the way of excuse and
explanation. She was rejoiced when Elizabeth mentioned her father's name
and forced upon her at once the necessity of asking pardon for the
luckless remark regarding separation which Mr. Farnshaw had overheard
three months before.

"But it isn't a particle of use, ma," Elizabeth replied when pushed to the
point of answering. "You know he'll hate me now, no matter what I ever do.
I've only got along peaceably this far by not talking to him of anything
at all. It's his way. Let it alone. I'm sorry I ever said it, but it can't
be helped."

"Yes, it can," Mrs. Farnshaw persisted. "Anyhow, he's your pa,
an'--an'--an' you owe it t' him. You owe it t' me too, t' make it right.
I'll never have a day of peace with him again if you don't. You'd no
business t' talk of partin' nohow! 'Taint decent, an'--an' it give him th'
feelin' that I was sidin' in with such talk."

Mrs. Farnshaw had been shrewd enough to save her strongest point till the
last.