In her girlhood Katy had evinced a taste for housekeeping, which now developed so rapidly that she won the respect of all the servants, from the man who answered the bell to the accomplished cook, hired by Mrs. Cameron, and who, like most accomplished cooks, was sharp and cross and opinionated, but who did not find it easy to scold the blithe little woman who every morning came flitting into her dominions, not asking what they would have for dinner, as she had been led to suppose she would, but ordering it with a matter of course air, which amused the usually overbearing Mrs. Phillips. But when the little lady, rolling her sleeves above her dimpled elbows and donning the clean white apron which Phillips was reserving for afternoon, announced her intention of surprising Wilford, who was very particular about dessert, with a pudding such as Aunt Betsy used to make, there were signs of rebellion, Phillips telling her bluntly that she couldn't be bothered--that it was not a lady's place in the kitchen under foot--that the other Mrs. Cameron never did it, and would not like it in Mrs. Wilford.
For a moment Katy paused and looked straight at Mrs. Phillips; then without a word of reply to that worthy's remarks, said, quietly: "I have only six eggs here--the receipt is ten. Bring me four more, please."
There was something in the blue eyes which compelled obedience, and the dessert progressed without another word of remonstrance. But when the door bell rang, and word came down that there were ladies in the parlor--Juno with some one else--Phillips would not tell her of the flour on her hair; and as Katy, after casting aside her apron and putting down her sleeves, only glanced hastily at herself in the hall mirror as she passed it, she appeared in the parlor with this mark upon her curls, and greatly to her astonishment was presented to "Mrs. Sybil Grandon," Juno explaining, that as Sybil was very anxious to see her, and they were passing the house, she had presumed upon her privilege as a sister and brought her in.
For a moment the room turned dark, and Katy felt that she was falling; it was so sudden, so unexpected, and she so unprepared; but Sybil's familiar manner soon quieted her, and she was able at last to look fully at her visitor, finding her not as handsome as she expected, nor as young but in all other points she had not perhaps been exaggerated. Cultivated and self-possessed, she was still very pleasing in her manner, making Katy feel wholly at ease by a few well-timed compliments, which had the merit of seeming genuine, so perfect was she in the art of deception, practicing it with so much skill that few saw through the mask, and knew it was put on.