Maria looked at her father in a bewildered sort of way. "I guess the
coffee is in the other canister," said she, meekly.

"Why didn't you say so then?" demanded her father.

Maria was silent. It seemed to her that her father had gone mad.
Harry Edgham made a ferocious stride across the kitchen to the
pantry. Maria followed him. "I guess that is the coffee canister,"
said she, pointing.

"Why didn't you say so, then?" asked her father, viciously, and again
Maria made no reply. Her father seized the coffee canister and
approached the stove. "I don't suppose you know how much she puts in.
I don't suppose you know anything," said he.

"I guess she puts in about a cupful," said Maria, trembling.

"A cupful! with coffee at the price it is now? I guess she doesn't,"
said her father. He poured the coffee-pot full of boiling water from
the tea-kettle, then he tipped the coffee canister into his hand, and
put one small pinch into the pot.

"Oh, father," ventured Maria. "I don't believe--"

"You don't believe what?"

"I don't believe that is enough."

"Of course it's enough. Don't you suppose your father knows how to
make coffee?"