A Sunbonnet Girl

With the first faint light of morning, Kate slipped to the door to
find her charge still sleeping soundly. It was eight o'clock when
she heard a movement in the adjoining room and went again to the
door. This time the woman was awake and smilingly waved to Kate
as she called: "Good morning! Come right in. I was wondering if
you were regretting your hasty bargain."

"Not a bit of it!" laughed Kate. "I am here waiting to be told
what to do first. I forgot to tell you my name last night. It is
Kate Bates. I'm from Bates Corners, Hartley, Indiana."

The woman held out her hand. "I'm so very glad to meet you, Miss
Bates," she said. "My name is Mariette Jardine. My home is in
Chicago."

They shook hands, smiling at each other, and then Kate said:
"Now, Mrs. Jardine, what shall I do for you first?"

"I will be dressed, I think, and then you may bring up the manager
until I have an understanding with him, and give him a message I
want sent, and an order for our breakfast. I wonder if it
wouldn't be nice to have it served on the corner of the veranda in
front of our rooms, under the shade of that big tree."

"I think that would be famous," said Kate.

They ate together under the spreading branches of a giant maple
tree, where they could see into the nest of an oriole that brooded
in a long purse of gray lint and white cotton cord. They could
almost reach out and touch it. The breakfast was good, nicely
served by a neat maid, evidently doing something so out of the
ordinary that she was rather stunned; but she was a young person
of some self-possession, for when she removed the tray, Mrs.
Jardine thanked her and gave her a coin that brought a smiling:
"Thank you very much. If you want your dinner served here and
will ask for Jennie Weeks, I'd like to wait on you again."