"My, I'd love to hear more about the Jack Rabbit," thought Mary Frances, "but I must warn them about Aunt Maria"; and she hurried out into the kitchen. [Illustration] "Listen!" she whispered, with upraised finger. "Listen!--Mother is going away, and Aunt Maria's coming over to keep house. Don't ever say a word--she'll never understand you, and she'll scrub and scour you till you ache, poor things!--she'll do that anyway, but don't talk before her. I hurried down to warn you--I was so afraid you might." "Never fear," spoke up Tea Kettle; "we never, never talk before 'grown-ups'--we can't help them. I forgot to tell you--if you speak about us to anyone, we can never, never speak again." "Oh," said Mary Frances, "it's a secret! I'm so glad you told me--I came so near telling Mother about Toaster Man--I might have, only----" Then the door-bell rang. [Illustration: "She'll scrub and scour you till you ache, poor things!"] CHAPTER V AUNT MARIA "FOR the land's sakes!" cried Aunt Maria. "For the land's sakes! Where in the world has that child been? Look at those hands! Have you been playing in the coal?" "I put coal on the fire," said Mary Frances. "I guess I'll take a look at that fire, myself," Aunt Maria continued, as she started toward the kitchen. Just then, she caught sight of the tray which Mary Frances had brought downstairs. "Milk Toast," she sniffed. "Who sent that in?" "I--I made it," Mary Frances began. There was one tiny piece left. Aunt Maria looked at it hard. "It's wonderful," she said, "wonderful; who showed you how?" "Who showed you how?" she demanded, as Mary Frances stood silent. [Illustration: "Who showed you how?"] "N-no-body,--at least, no real person. I read about how to make it in my cook book." [Illustration: "N-no-body."] [Illustration] "_Your_ cook book--you mean your _mother's_ cook book." "No," said Mary Frances, "I mean my cook book Mother's been making for me. I'll show it to you," and she ran to get it. "See!--in Mother's writing--'Mary Frances' First Cook Book!'" "Well," said Aunt Maria, "you may turn out of some account, after all. It's about time to call for a ref-or-ma-tion." "Yes, ma'am," said Mary Frances, not un-der-stand-ing the big word--"do you want me to call for it now?" "Don't be saucy!" snapped the old lady. Then she set about washing the little girl's hands and face, rubbing so hard that it made the tears come, finishing off with the towel until Mary Frances felt her face shine. "Wonder if she thinks I'm a stove," she thought. "Maybe she'll black me some day by mistake! I don't believe she knows how old I am--she treats me like a baby, for all the world sometimes, yet she thinks I ought to know more. Queer!" [Illustration: "Wonder if she thinks I'm a stove."] While Aunt Maria was busy getting dinner, she ran up to her mother's room. "Mother," she asked, "Aunt Maria will be gone home most of the day time, while you're away, won't she?"