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There ain't no one could stand the penoeuvres of that young Lizzie, an' the mud she trailed all over the kitchen jist after I'd scrubbed!" Miss Gordon showed no signs of sympathy. She felt some, nevertheless, and suppressed a sigh. Elizabeth certainly was a trial. She deigned no remark, however, and Sarah Emily continued the one-sided conversation all unabashed.

Elizabeth folded the letter. The gray star-eyes were very tender. "I'm so glad Mary's cough is better. My hair?" She patted the heavy brown braids. "Yes, of course. That means that the wild streak is gone. I'm perfectly genteel, I assure you, Jean. I left all my improprieties scattered over the continent of Europe last summer, and have come home prepared to give up all my penoeuvres."

She had more time to sit there now, for Wully Johnstone's only unmarried daughter had come to be the helper in the MacAllister kitchen when Sarah Emily became the wife of Peter, and declared she couldn't put up with anybody's penoeuvres when she was cooking a dinner. Mother MacAllister's eyes rested fondly on the girl as she laid off her coat and hat.

"Eh, Sarah Emily?" The young woman straightened herself and suddenly became dignified. She darted a withering glance at Elizabeth. "Not much, they didn't!" she cried righteously. "Jist let me ketch any o' them yes, jist any one o' the whole gang up to any such penoeuvres. I'd soon fix 'em!" There was so much scorn in her demeanor that Elizabeth was disconcerted. "Why?" she asked anxiously.