Adele is with mamma, is she?
Well, Uncle Dick will give Harry his breakfast."
The cold was intense the following day, yet Miss Featherstone, well
muffled up, was on her way to the hall-door, where the sleigh was
waiting to take her to the station.
"Forgive me," exclaimed Colonel Pinckney, who waylaid her, much to her
annoyance, "but what are you going to do for the family now?"
"I am going to New York to get a cook," she replied with a decided air.
"Do you know the state of the thermometer?"
"I don't care anything about it," with some obstinacy, tugging at the
button of her glove.
"But I do," he said. "Now, Miss Featherstone, while I'm here I am
master of the house, and if it's necessary to go to town it's I that am
going--to use Pat's vernacular--and not you. Give me directions, and
I'll follow them implicitly."
"So Dick went, did he?" said Mrs. Pinckney. She was propped up in bed
with large pillows: Miss Featherstone, still in her bonnet, sat by her
side.
"Yes: it was very kind, for I don't know what would have become of the
children all day, poor things! and you sick."
Mrs. Pinckney glanced searchingly at her. "Dick is very kind when he
pleases, and exceedingly efficient," returned the invalid: "I've no
doubt he'll bring back a capital cook.
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