n of men. Letitia thought
the idea felicitous. She had no objections to giving privileges to a
cook. Nor had I, for the matter of that. I ventured to remark, however,
that Gerda didn't seem to be a cook.

"Then let us call her a 'girl,'" said Letitia.

"Gerda is a girl, only because she isn't a boy," I remarked tauntingly.
"If by 'girl' you even mean servant, then Gerda isn't a girl. Goodness
knows what she is. Hello! Another ring!"

This time Miss Lyberg herself went to the door, and we listened. More
arrivals for the sociable; four Swedish guests, all equally gaily
attired in flower hats. Some of them wore bangles, the noise of which,
in the hall, sounded like an infuriation of sleigh-bells. They were
Christina and Sophie and Sadie and Alexandra--as we soon learned. It was
wonderful how welcome Gerda made them, and how quickly they were "at
home." They rustled through the halls, chatting and laughing and
humming. Such merry girls! Such light-hearted little charmers! Letitia
stood looking at them through the crack of the drawing-room door.
Perhaps it was just as well that somebody should have a good time in our
house.

"Just the same, Letitia," I observed, galled, "I think I should say
to-morrow that this invasion is most impertinent--most uncalled for."

"Yes, Archie," said Letitia demurely, "you think you should say it. But
please don't think _I_ shall, for I assure you that I shan't. I suppose
that we must discharge her. She can't do anything and she doesn't want
to learn. I don't blame her. She can always get the wages she asks by
doing nothing. You would pursue a similar policy, Archie, if it were
possible. Everybody would. But all other laborers must know how to
labor."

I was glad to hear Letitia echoing my sentiments. She was quite
unconsciously plagiarizing. Once again she took up the cook-book. The
sound of merrymaking in the kitchen drifted in upon us. From what we
could gather, Gerda seemed to be "dressing up" for the delectation of
her guests. Shrieks of laughter and clapping of hands made us wince. My
nerves were on edge. Had any one at that moment dared to suggest that
there was even a suspicion of humor in these proceedings I should have
slain him without compunction. Letitia was less irate and tried to
comfort me.

Letitia sighed, and shut up the cook-book. Eggs _a la reine_ seemed as
difficult as trigonometry, or conic sections, or differential
calculus--and much more expensive. Certainly the