Emma Orczy

The Scarlet Pimpernel Emma Orczy

In the kitchen Sally was extremely busy-saucepans and frying-pans were standing inrows on the gigantic hearth, the huge stock-pot stood in a corner, and the jack turned withslow deliberation, and presented alternately to the glow every side of a noble sirloin ofbeef. The two little kitchen-maids bustled around, eager to help, hot and panting, withcotton sleeves well tucked up above the dimpled elbows, and giggling over some privatejokes of their own, whenever Miss Sally's back was turned for a moment. And old Jemima, stolid in temper and solid in bulk, kept up a long and subdued grumble, while she stirredthe stock-pot methodically over the fire. What ho! Sally! came in cheerful if none too melodious accents from the coffee-roomclose by. Lud bless my soul! exclaimed Sally, with a good-humoured laugh, what be they allwanting now, I wonder!Beer, of course, grumbled Jemima, you don't 'xpect Jimmy Pitkin to 'ave done with onetankard, do ye?Mr. 'Arry, 'e looked uncommon thirsty too, simpered Martha, one of the little kitchenmaids; and her beady black eyes twinkled as they met those of her companion, whereuponboth started on a round of short and suppressed giggles. Sally looked cross for a moment, and thoughtfully rubbed her hands against her shapelyhips; her palms were itching, evidently, to come in contact with Martha's rosy cheeks-butinherent good-humour prevailed, and with a pout and a shrug of the shoulders, she turnedher attention to the fried potatoes. What ho, Sally! hey, Sally!And a chorus of pewter mugs, tapped with impatient hands against the oak tables of thecoffee-room, accompanied the shouts for mine host's buxom daughter. Sally! shouted a more persistent voice, are ye goin' to be all night with that there beer