"Oh no, you won't," she said. "You did last year, don't you remember? and nobody would eat the Colonel's marmalade. Each jar had to be marked `Colonel Arbuthnot' on account of the thickness of the rinds. You had it all to yourself, and I think you are about sick of it." "But I'll do better this time; I really will, Susie," said the poor Colonel. "Oh, it does seem so very silly to cut up that beautiful rind so thick; it isn't men's work," said Susie, "and that's the truth; but it's meant for women like Florence and me. If Flo cuts the rinds thick, she will feel the full impetus of my wrath. You go into the library and get your books in order, father. I dare say Flo and I will come in and read to you presently; but between lunch and tea-time we are going to be busy over our marmalade, and we don't want you hovering round." "There, there!" said the Colonel, "there, there! What is the good of an old man who is always in the way?" "Things are being done for him all the time," said Susie. "Now, how do you like that curry, sir? Let me tell you that I made it myself." "It is delicious, my dear," said the Colonel. "I could almost fancy myself back in Bengal. It has got the true oriental flavour. Where did you discover that knack of blending the ingredients so that you don't get one flavour over and above the others? Really--this curry is a _chef-d'oeuvre_. Try some, won't you, Florence?" But Florence declared that she could not eat curry with the true eastern flavour and preferred some cold mutton, which Susie out for her with right good-will. "I like your food," she said. "It is so good and wholesome. I hate messy things. Mrs Fortescue was always making things up for us, imagining that we could not eat plain things." "You will get very plain things here," said Susie. "It's only father who has to be petted and fussed over. But then he is worth it--he is such an old dear," and she looked at him with her honest eyes beaming with affection. When the meal had come to an end, Florence and Susie were immediately supplied with two large linen aprons, and the work of making marmalade began. For a time, Florence pretended to enjoy it, then her knife slackened, and Susie shouted to her that her pieces of orange peel were almost if not quite worthy of the Colonel's own. "I am not going to have it," she said. "We can only manage to live comfortably by never wasting anything, and if you can't cut the oranges better than that, you had better stop." "Oh, Susie, I am sorry! I will be good." Florence made a violent effort to do better, but ended in cutting her finger, and then Susie had to spend a long time in binding up the wound and pitying the sufferer. "You are not a bit yourself to-day," she said. "What is the matter with you?" "Well, I don't know," said Florence. "I am both happy and unhappy." "I shouldn't have thought," said Susie gravely, "that you were a bit the sort of girl to care whether you had money or not."