CHAPTER III
The Model Cottage
In her supposed character of a modest and retiring heroine, Aldredrapidly secured the favour she wanted in the school. Since the afternoonwhen Mabel had confided to Phoebe and Dora the story of the rescue,the whole class had waxed enthusiastic. Though nobody openly mentionedthe subject, she could feel a marked difference in the general attitudetowards her; she was no longer only Mabel's friend, but somebody on herown account. That this new esteem was not truly her due caused her anoccasional pang, but she would put the thought hurriedly away, consolingherself by reflecting that the girls were beginning to discover her goodqualities, and to appreciate her as she deserved.
Her intimacy with Mabel increased daily. The latter seemed hardly ableto make enough of her. The two were always together, and Mabel, whopossessed many luxuries that do not usually fall to the lot of theaverage schoolgirl, was ready to share everything with her room-mate.Aldred found it decidedly pleasant to be, not only encouraged, butactually begged to help herself to an unlimited quantity of the mostdelicious scent, to use dainty notepaper, or a delicate pair ofscissors; to be lent a most superior tennis racket, and allowed toborrow any of the delightful volumes that filled the bookcase in thebedroom. To do her justice, she was really grateful for all thiskindness, and absolutely adored Mabel. Had she loved her less, shemight, perhaps, have been more willing to hazard the loss of heraffection; but the thought of the blank which such a calamity wouldentail made her keep silence, in spite of the reproachful accusations ofher better self.
"It's such a delight to me to have found a real friend!" said Mabel oneday. "I've told Mother about you, and she wrote that she was so glad. Ithink I must read you a little scrap of her letter. She says: 'Yourdescription of Aldred Laurence pleased me very much--she seems just thekind of high-minded girl with whom I should wish you to be associated;and though I stipulated for you to have a bedroom to yourself, I do notobject to your sharing it with her, if you like. Our friends naturallyexercise a great influence over our characters, so I am glad you havemade such a good choice. I am sure that, knowing our home standards, Ican rely upon your judgment, and that you would not allow yourself to beintimate with anyone who is not thoroughly worthy of your confidence.'You needn't turn so red!" continued Mabel, who misunderstood the causeof Aldred's blushes. "Of course, Mother is extremely particular, but sheseems quite satisfied. I hope she'll see you some day, and then she'lllove you on her own account."
"Suppose she didn't?" hazarded Aldred.
"She couldn't help it. Mother and I have just the same tastes; we admirecourage and spirit, and people who do things in the world. Nearly allMother's friends are interesting in some way. Mr. Joyce is an explorer,and Mr. Hall has done grand temperance work; Miss Abercombie is anartist, and Miss Verney is helping to run a settlement in the slums.Mother says it does her good to know them, and spurs her on to try to domore herself."
"What does she do?"
"Oh, heaps! No one could live a busier life than Mother. She's presidentof ever so many societies and guilds! She looks after poor girls, andfinds employment for them, and sends them to the country when they needholidays. Then, in our own village there are the Orphanage and theCottage Hospital to visit, and the district nurse and the deaconess tohelp, and clothing clubs and local charities to manage. She opensbazaars, and gives the prizes at schools, and acts as judge at flowershows. When Father was in Parliament it was really dreadful; Mothercould hardly get through her enormously long list. But he lost his seatat the last election, and she has had a little easier time since then."
"But need she do it, if she doesn't like it?" objected Aldred.
There was a puzzled look on Mabel's face as she answered: "You, of allpeople, to ask such a question! Of course, she feels bound to give whathelp she can. She says her social influence is her one talent, and shemust use it wherever a good cause needs a champion. She would beterribly missed, if she stopped supporting those various societies. It'swhat I'm to take up myself when I leave school. You, I expect, will goin for some splendid work, like Florence Nightingale, or Sister Dora. Ihave a presentiment that your name will be handed down to fame."
The idea of devoting her life to such self-sacrifice absolutelystaggered Aldred. She did not attempt, however, to shatter Mabel'sdreams for her future, but only gave an ambiguous reply. When her friendwas in this exalted mood, she evidently did not like to be checked, andthe least hint that her high ideals were not shared would make a littlerift within the lute, and destroy her confidence.
Now that she had secured what she considered her rightful place atBirkwood, Aldred was thoroughly happy in her new life. The Grange was avery up-to-date school, and Miss Drummond was an exceedinglyenterprising and go-ahead principal, who kept in touch with all thelatest educational methods, and was ever ready to give some fresh systema trial. This term she was devoting herself to an experiment which foundgreat favour among her pupils. It was one of her pet theories that everywoman, whether rich or poor, ought to have a thoroughly practicalacquaintance with all the details of housekeeping, and she wasdetermined to put this into operation. She had had a small cottage builtin one corner of the grounds, and classes were held there regularly forcookery and still-room lore. The girls were taught to mix puddings, bakebread, make light pastry, and concoct many old-world salves andcordials. Miss Drummond would wax both enthusiastic and didactic whenshe aired her views on the subject.
"We can very well emulate our great grandmothers in this respect," shewould say, "and thus make a happy combination of ancient and modern.Because you are studying French and algebra is no reason at all why youshould not also know how to fry an omelette or boil a potato. Acultivated brain ought surely to be able to grasp domestic economybetter than an untrained one, and an educated woman who is reallyhelpful is worth more than an ignorant one. Even if you are never calledupon to do things yourselves at home, you ought at least to know howthey should be done, so that you need not set your maids unreasonabletasks, and expect impossibilities in the way of service. I think, also,that a great future for many of our English girls lies in the Colonies,where domestic help is often at a premium, and the most delicatelynurtured lady must sometimes set to work, and be her own cook andlaundress. If you profit by the classes you attend at the cottage, youwill have an invaluable accomplishment, and one which may in someemergency prove more useful than anything else you have learnt."
Miss Drummond believed in putting all knowledge to the test of practice,so she instituted the plan of sending the girls in relays of three tothe cottage every Saturday, and letting them undertake the entire workof the little establishment. Everything must be done by their own hands:the stove lighted--after the flues had first been intelligentlycleaned--the rooms swept, dusted, and tidied; the midday dinnerprepared, dished up, and cleared away; the crockery washed, and thekitchen left in apple-pie order. Miss Drummond herself and one of theother teachers were permanent guests at dinner; and the threehousekeepers were each allowed to ask one friend to afternoon tea, sothat there should be visitors to appreciate the various viands prepared.
The girls welcomed the experiment with the utmost enthusiasm. Thecottage was to them a veritable doll's house, and they were supremelydelighted at the prospect of directing the internal arrangements. Asthree were told off weekly for "domestic duty" there was just timeduring the term for each of the thirty-nine to have one trial, and"Cottage Saturday" became an event to which they looked forward with thegreatest eagerness.
Instead of giving the upper forms the entire precedence, Miss Drummondsandwiched elder and younger girls in alternate weeks, so that severalmembers of the Fourth Form secured an early chance. Aldred's turnhappened to come the first week in October. To her great satisfaction,Mabel was bracketed with her for the same day, and Dora Maxwellcompleted the trio.
"It will be such fun!" declared Mabel. "We shall have to get our ownbreakfast. I hope we shan't make any idiotic mistakes."
"Grind the bacon, and fry the coffee?
" laughed Aldred.
"Well, hardly so bad as that. But we shan't have anybody to ask. MissDrummond says we're to be absolutely and entirely by ourselves."
"I wish we could do something rather out of the common," said Aldred;"something that nobody else has thought of yet! It would be such fun tosurprise Miss Drummond!"
"Suppose we were to make some jam?" suggested Dora. "There are heaps ofblackberries growing round the playing-field and the paddock. We couldpick them this afternoon, and hide the basket."
"How about the sugar? There wouldn't be enough in the stores that aregiven out."
"We shall have to let Miss Reade into the secret, and ask her to buy itfor us. We can pay for it out of our pocket-money."
"All right. I know there's a preserving-pan and plenty of jam pots atthe cottage. It would be such a triumph, when Miss Drummond came to lookround in the evening, if we could show her a row of jars neatly labelled'Blackberry'."
"We'll do it, then. Let us get the basket and go to the paddock now."
There was no lack of fruit on the brambles, and the hedgerows yieldedsuch a prolific harvest that in an hour the girls had picked all theyrequired. They concealed their spoils carefully in a cupboard under thestairs, where hockey sticks, tennis rackets, and other possessions weregenerally kept. Miss Reade was sympathetic when they took her into theirconfidence, and promised readily to get them the sugar.
"Cook will bring it across and smuggle it into the scullery," she said."I think Miss Drummond will be quite pleased to find you have triedsomething on your own initiative. By the by, I suppose you know how tomake jam?"
"I do," replied Aldred. "I've often watched my aunt make it at home, andhelped her, too. I remember exactly."
"Would you like a recipe?"
"I really don't think we need it, thanks."
"Well, I wish you all success," said Miss Reade "It is not my turn tohave a meal at the cottage to-morrow, but perhaps the blackberry jamwill appear at The Grange afterwards, and we shall taste it sometime attea."
By half-past seven next morning the three housewives were ready, andattired in the regulation costume for the day's work. Each wore aholland overall with sleeves, and had her hair tightly plaited, to keepit out of the way.
Miss Drummond presented them solemnly with the key of the cottage.
"You will find most of the stores ready, either in the cupboard or inthe larder," she said; "but the meat will be delivered at ten o'clock.It is a loin of mutton, and you may cook it in any one of the ways thatMiss Reade has taught you. You can get what vegetables you want from thegarden, and I leave both the pudding and the cakes for afternoon tea toyour choice. Mademoiselle and I will come to dinner punctually at oneo'clock, and I have no doubt you will have everything ready and hot andvery nice."
"We'll do our best," replied the trio.
They rushed across to the cottage in great excitement, eager to commenceoperations. The place was a tiny bungalow, containing a sitting-room, akitchen, a scullery, a larder, and a coal-shed. Most of its adornmentswere of amateur origin. Miss Drummond had wished it to be the specialtoy of the school; so while it was in progress of construction, she hadencouraged the girls to prepare everything for it that they couldpossibly make themselves, even allowing them to help with thedecorations. Handicrafts were much in vogue at Birkwood, and it wasreally astonishing what a number of charming articles had beencontrived, all at a very small cost. The walls of the sitting-room werecolour-washed a pale, duck-egg green, and the Sixth Form had paintedround them a frieze, consisting of long, trailing sprays of wild roses,quite simply and broadly done, but giving a most artistic effect. Thecurtains of cream-coloured casement cloth were embroidered in pale-green_applique_ by the Fifth Form; the Fourth had undertaken the cushions;and the Third had worked an elaborate and dainty table-cover. Thepictures were mostly chalk and pastel drawings done by the best studentsof the art class; while the wood-carving class had contributed theframes. Carpentry lessons had produced the bookcase, the cosy corner,the two arm-chairs, and also many neat little contrivances, in the wayof shelves and handy brackets. Every item spent on the furnishing hadbeen carefully entered and added up by the girls, so that each shouldhave an adequate idea of the cost of the wee establishment, and what itwas possible to do at trifling expense.
Though the sitting-room was more aesthetic than the kitchen, the latterwas regarded as the most important feature of the house. The walls werea pale terra-cotta, and were hung with a few brown bromide photographs;but there art ended and utility began. All the rest was strictlybusiness-like. There was a small "settler's stove", with oven andboiler; and a complete stock of requisites for simple cookery--pots,pans, dishes, pastry-board and roller, lemon squeezer, egg whisk, andeven a coffee grinder, a knife cleaner, and a mincing machine.
The three girls felt quite important as they took possession of theirlittle kingdom for the day. It was almost like "playing at house", butthere was a "grown-up" sensation of responsibility which differed frommere amusement. With two guests for dinner and three for tea, theycertainly could not afford to waste their time, if they wished to makea worthy effort at hospitality.
"We'll get the stove going first," said Mabel, "and have our breakfast;then, as soon as we've cleared away and washed up, we can begin at onceto think about dinner."
She set the example by seizing the flue brush and beginning to clear thesoot from under the oven, while Aldred fetched sticks, and Dora ran witha bucket to the shed to break coals, hammering away at the largest lumpsshe could find with keen satisfaction. The fire was soon blazing and thekettle filled, and with so many hands to help breakfast was not long inpreparation. The energetic Dora turned the handle of the coffee grinder,Mabel cut dainty slices of bacon and presided over the frying-pan, andAldred laid the table and made the toast. They all agreed that theirfirst meal was delicious, although Mabel had forgotten to warm theplates for the bacon, and the coffee was just a trifle muddy.
"It oughtn't to be," said poor Dora anxiously. "I'm sure I made itexactly the same way as Miss Reade showed us. I must manage better if weintend to serve any after dinner to Miss Drummond and Mademoiselle."
"And I must remember hot plates!" said Mabel. "I should be ashamed toface Miss Drummond if we left out such an important item as that. By theby, Aldred, did you fill the kettle again, so that we can have plenty ofhot water for washing up? It takes a long time to heat the boiler."
Aldred jumped up rather guiltily. As a matter of fact, she had drainedthe kettle, and thoughtlessly placed it empty upon the stove. By goodluck it had not been there long enough to crack, but the vision of whatmight have happened made her pensive.
"There seem so many little things to think about!" she declared. "Whileyou're doing one, you just forget another. I can quite believe the storyof King Alfred burning the cakes, though Miss Bardsley always says it's'not based on sound historical evidence'."
"It's most natural, and has the ring of truth," agreed Mabel,"especially the woman saying he would be ready enough to eat themafterwards. I should have told him so myself, I'm sure."
"What are we going to give Miss Drummond for dinner?" enquired Dora."Let us arrange that before we begin to clear away. The kettle can'tboil for quite five minutes, so we may as well hold our council of warnow."
After considerable discussion they decided to cut the loin of muttoninto chops, and stew it with carrots and turnips; to have kidney beansfor the second vegetable, and a plum tart and a corn-flour blancmangefor the pudding.
"Couldn't we have some soup?" suggested Aldred.
"There's nothing to make it with. We've no stock or bones."
"You don't need any. It can be _bouillon maigre_, instead of _bouillongras_--just water and vegetables, without any meat. A lady who lives inFrance was staying with us this summer, and she said they always have itlike that on Fridays. They put all kinds of things from the garden intoit--things we never think of using. It will be a compliment toMademoiselle to give her a French dish."
"H
adn't we better stick to what Miss Reade has taught us?" returned Doradoubtfully.
"We're to have 'soups and broths' at the next lesson," said Mabel.
"We can't wait for the next lesson!" urged Aldred. "I'll undertake thesoup, and you can do the stew. I might make some bread sauce as well."
"But no one ever takes bread sauce with stewed mutton!"
"Why shouldn't they? It will be a novelty. I believe they have it inGermany. It will make an extra dish on the table, at any rate. We wantto give Miss Drummond a good spread."
Mabel and Dora demurred, but Aldred was so insistent that in the endthey agreed to let her include both the soup and the bread sauce.
"But you'll have to be answerable for them," maintained Dora, "becausewe haven't learnt to make either, and we wanted to practise what wereally know to-day, not to try too many fresh experiments."
"Oh, I'll take the responsibility!" declared Aldred lightly. "We shallhave a splendid dinner now. We'll pick a few apples, and those bigyellow plums, for dessert."
"We'd better write a menu, if we've so many courses," said Mabel.
"A good idea! We'll put it in French; it will just delight Mademoiselle.What a pity we didn't think of it sooner, and we'd have painted a lovelycard on purpose! I suppose there wouldn't be time now, if I ran andfetched my paint-box?"
"Aldred! With all this cooking still to be done! We haven't even putaway the breakfast things yet!"
"Well, the kettle's just singing; we'll wait till it boils. Have you apencil, Dora, and a scrap of paper?"
The list of dishes looked quite imposing and elegant, when written in aforeign language. Aldred regarded it with pride, and copied it in herbest handwriting:
MENU.
Potage aux Herbes. Cotelettes de Mouton aux Legumes. Sauce Anglaise. Pommes de Terre au Naturel. Haricots Verts. Blancmange. Pate de Prunes. Fromage. Dessert. Cafe.
"But why have you called the bread sauce _Sauce Anglaise_?" asked Mabel.
"I didn't know what to put. _Sauce de pain_ doesn't sound quite right,somehow; and don't you remember some old Frenchman--was itVoltaire?--said the English were a nation of forty religions, and onlyone sauce? It's always supposed to be bread sauce, so I think _SauceAnglaise_ is a very good name for it."
The kettle by this time had boiled over, which necessitated a carefulwiping of the fender and fire-irons. After the washing-up had beensuccessfully accomplished, and the stove stoked, and the damper turnedto heat the oven, the girls sallied forth with baskets to thekitchen-garden, to pick fruit and vegetables. Aldred, who was determinedto concoct what she imagined to be a really French soup, made aselection of almost every herb she could find--sage, sweet marjoram,thyme, fennel, chervil, sorrel, and parsley, as well as lettuces, leeks,and a few artichokes.
"It shall be exactly like what Madame Pontier described to Aunt Bertha,"she thought; "and I won't forget the _soupcon_ of vinegar and olive oil,which she said was so indispensable. Miss Drummond will be quite amazedwhen she hears I've evolved it myself. I suppose some people have anatural talent for cooking, the same as they have for painting. Whofirst thought of all the recipes in the cookery books, I wonder? It'sfar more interesting to try something original than to make the samestew as we had last week with Miss Reade."
Mabel and Dora had hurried back with their baskets, and when Aldred,having secured her miscellaneous collection, followed them leisurely tothe cottage, she found them already hard at work, disjointing chops,cutting up carrots and turnips, slicing beans, and peeling potatoes.
"We want to get the meat on in good time, and let it cook gently,"announced Mabel; "then we can turn our attention to the sweets. Wouldyou rather make the blancmange or the pastry?"
"I don't care much about either, if you and Dora want to make them,"said Aldred. "I shall have quite enough with the soup and the breadsauce. I might look after the vegetables, if you like."
As the others agreed to this division of labour, Aldred retired to thescullery, and started operations. There was a small oil cooker here,which she thought she had better use, as there would not be room foreverything on the kitchen stove. She chopped up all her various herbs,put them into a pan with some water, and then began to consider thequestion of seasonings.
"Even Aunt Bertha admitted that French people are cleverer than Englishat flavourings," she thought. "Madame Pontier said there ought to be adash of so many things. I'll try a combination of all sorts of spices,not just plain pepper and salt." So in went a stick of cinnamon, a bladeof mace, a few cloves, a teaspoonful of ginger, some grated nutmeg, andsome caraway seeds. Aldred had not the least notion of how much or howlittle constituted a "dash", so she put a liberal interpretation on theterm and added a teacupful of vinegar, and half a bottle of salad oil.
"There! That ought to be worthy of a _cordon bleu_," she said toherself. "Now I must let it simmer away, and it will be delicious."
She set her pan on the oil cooker, and ran out to the garden, to picksome flowers for the table. This was a part of the day's work thatappealed to her more than the cookery, so she lingered for some timemaking an artistic combination of poppies, grasses, and sweet scabious.When she arrived back at the cottage, she was greeted by both Mabel andDora with rueful faces.
"Your lamp has been flaring up in the scullery, and has made such amess!" began Dora. "It's sent black smuts over everything! They cameright through into the kitchen, and fell into the blancmange. I hadhard work to fish them out."
"And the scullery looks as if it wants spring cleaning," added Mabel."I'm afraid we shall have to put clean paper on the shelves."
Aldred rushed to ascertain the fate of her pan. Mabel had taken it offand turned the lamp out, but there was still a very nasty, oily smell inthe air. Dora, who was the most practical of the three, examined thecooker and re-trimmed the wick.
"You won't have to turn it too high," she said. "These lamps alwayssmoke very easily. We used to use a paraffin heater in our greenhouse athome, and it wasn't at all satisfactory. I should leave it only half on,like this, if I were you."
"It won't cook very fast!" objected Aldred.
"Well, you don't want soup to boil, only to simmer. We must have theback door open, to get rid of this smell. It's perfectly sickening! I'llhelp you to clean up, while Mabel finishes the pastry."
The catastrophe with the lamp was most annoying. The smuts had settledso persistently that nearly everything had to be taken down and wiped,or dusted.
"Miss Drummond may very likely peep into the scullery," said Dora. "Itwould never do for her to find it covered with blacks; she'd think wewere dreadfully bad housekeepers. All the things in the cottage are sobeautifully new and clean, it's a shame to have a speck anywhere. Isn'tit time to put on the beans and the potatoes?"
The morning had certainly crept along very fast, and if the dinner wasto be punctual to the moment, it was not any too soon to think of thevegetables. As Aldred had undertaken these for her province, she rushedinto the kitchen and began to see about them at once, in such a flurrythat she quite forgot the instructions she had received at the cookeryclass. Fortunately, the other girls were looking on, and brought her tobook.
"You mustn't put the beans into cold water," shrieked Dora; "I've thekettle boiling on purpose. And where's the pinch of carbonate of soda,to keep the colour?"
"And the potatoes need salt," interposed Mabel. "They're old now, andquite floury. You shouldn't do them with a sprig of mint; that was fornew ones."
"Finish the vegetables yourselves, then!" retorted Aldred, a little outof temper. "I haven't made the bread sauce yet."
"Don't mind about it!"
"Yes, I shall; it's down on the menu."
"That doesn't matter."
"It matters very much. I shall have quite time, if you two will lay thetable. Only, don't disturb my arrangement of the flowers, because I'veput them just right; and be sure you
tilt the menu card exactly oppositeMiss Drummond's place."