Aunt Hetty's Ordeal by Gail Hamilton

Author:Gail Hamilton
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: hamilton, road to avonlea, gail hamilton
Publisher: Davenport Press

Chapter Eight

Finally, the day Hetty had been dreading arrived - the day of Muriel Stacey’s visit to Avonlea. Determined to do right by her longtime rival, Hetty had stuck fast to the privilege of serving Miss Stacey her first dinner in the neighborhood. As a consequence, Rose Cottage was thrown into an uproar with Hetty’s preparations.

Hetty, abetted by Olivia and Sara, had slaved grimly all day, determined that no fault be found with any dinner served on the premises. In the kitchen, every pot the house possessed seemed to be bubbling and boiling on the stove, while Hetty popped from one to another of them, stirring the contents in turn and frowning fiercely as she took critical tastes. Not only were the pots bubbling, but three plump fruit pies were turning golden in the oven and a fat chicken was sizzling in the roasting pan, on its way to mouth-watering perfection. In the waves of heat given off by the roaring cast-iron cook stove, Olivia and Sara rushed about doing their best to help, even though nothing, on this day of days, seemed to satisfy Hetty.

“Put those flowers on the table, Sara,” Hetty called out, trying distractedly to supervise the setting of the dining table. There had already been heated discussions over which set of good china to use, which flowers to pick and how they should be arranged. Olivia and Sara considered themselves the artistic souls in the house, while Hetty was the one who had read the book on flower arranging.

“Aunt Hetty,” Sara asked, with atrocious timing, “could Miss Stacey really fire you if she felt like it?”

“Oh, heavens, Sara, she wouldn’t do a thing like that,” Olivia exclaimed, horrified at the very idea, and horrified that Sara should bring up the subject at a time like this.

Hetty had worked herself up into such a state of nerves and anxiety that she could almost imagine Muriel Stacey arriving with her own guillotine. She didn’t agree with Olivia at all and jerked her head in that vehement way she had when she was truly agitated.

“Oh, wouldn’t she, though! That woman’s just itching to write up a bad report. I know it.”

Hetty all but burnt her tongue testing a sauce, then noticed Olivia and Sara surreptitiously rearranging the flowers yet again. She flew from the stove to the table, which was set with all the splendor Rose Cottage could produce.

“Don’t put the flowers there, Sara! No, not that way, Olivia! Not like that! For heaven’s sake!”

Sara dropped the daisy she had been sliding into the vase and hurriedly stepped out of her aunt’s way.

“You seem awfully nervous, Aunt Hetty,” Sara commented, keeping a prudent distance.

Hetty brandished the heavy wooden spoon she was carrying and sucked in a breath. Long strands of hair had worked loose from her bun and her apron was twisted askew.

“Me? Why I’m cool as a cucumber. Now, if you two will kindly leave me and go pick up Muriel Stacey at the Biggins’s, I shall quickly bathe myself—in peace and quiet.

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