I'd go mesilf,--
for I'm a good, fair cook,--but I can't be afther makin' them
fiddly-faddly contraptions Miss Galbraith has."
"Well, Susan, if we can find a cook, will you come as helper? Just
for a few days, till Miss Galbraith can get some people down from
New York."
"Yes, Miss Patty; I'll do that. Now, I'm bethinkin' me, there's
the Cartwrights' cook. She's a perfessional, and the family has
gone away for three days, sure. Cuddent she do ye?"
"Fine!" cried Patty. "Where do the Cartwrights live?"
"Up the road a piece, an' thin down beyant a couple o' miles.
Don't ye know the big grey stone house, wid towers?"
"Oh, yes; I know where you mean. And is the cook there? What's her
name?"
"Yes, she's there. An' her name is O'Brien. It's Irish she is, but
she knows more cookin' than manny Frinch jumpin'-jacks! If she'll
go wid yez, I'll go."
"Well, I'll tell you, Susan. You go on over to Miss Galbraith's
now. Tell her I sent you, and that I'll bring Mrs. O'Brien in
about half an hour. Then you go to the kitchen and get things
started."
"My, it's the foine head ye have on ye, Miss Patty! That's a grand
plan!"
Susan turned back to her sister's house, and the motor-car darted
forward.
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