_compagnon du voyage_, she felt an unwillingness to meet him in the
presence of Carrie, who she knew would spare no pains to mortify her.
Soon forgetting Durward, Anna again alluded to her plan of dressing
'Lena, wishing "Cad would mind her own business." Then, as a new
idea entered her head, she brightened up, exclaiming, "I know what I
can do. I'll have Corinda curl your hair real pretty. You've got
beautiful hair. A heap nicer than my yellow flax."

'Lena offered no remonstrance, and Corinda, who came at the call of
her young mistress, immediately commenced brushing and curling the
bright, wavy hair which Anna had rightly called beautiful. While
this was going on, Grandma Nichols, who had always adhered to the
good old puritanical custom of dining exactly at twelve o'clock,
began to wonder why dinner was not forthcoming. She had breakfasted
in Versailles, but like many travelers, could not eat much at a
hotel, and now her stomach clamored loudly for food. Three times had
she walked back and forth before what she supposed was the kitchen,
and from which a savory smell of something was issuing, and at last
determining to stop and reconnoiter, she started for the door.

The northern reader at all acquainted with southern life, knows well
that a kitchen there and a kitchen here are two widely different
things--ours, particularly in the country, being frequently used as a
dining-room, while a southern lady would almost as soon think of
eating in the barn as in her cook-room. Like most other planters,
Mr. Livingstone's kitchen was separate and at some little distance
from the main building, causing grandma to wonder "how the poor
critters managed to carry victuals back and to when it was cold and
slippery."