`` I like you better than Felicity , even if you ca n't cook . There 's lots of folks can make bread . But there is n't many who can tell a story like you . '' `` But it 's better to be useful than just interesting , '' sighed the Story Girl bitterly . And Felicity , who was useful , would , in her secret soul , have given anything to be interesting . Which is the way of human nature . Company descended on us that afternoon . First came Aunt Janet 's sister , Mrs. Patterson , with a daughter of sixteen years and a son of two . They were followed by a buggy-load of Markdale people ; and finally , Mrs. Elder Frewen and her sister from Vancouver , with two small daughters of the latter , arrived . `` It never rains but it pours , '' said Uncle Roger , as he went out to take their horse . But Felicity 's foot was on her native heath . She had been baking all the afternoon , and , with a pantry well stocked with biscuits , cookies , cakes , and pies , she cared not if all Carlisle came to tea . Cecily set the table , and the Story Girl waited on it and washed all the dishes afterwards . But all the blushing honours fell to Felicity , who received so many compliments that her airs were quite unbearable for the rest of the week . She presided at the head of the table with as much grace and dignity as if she had been five times twelve years old , and seemed to know by instinct just who took sugar and who took it not . She was flushed with excitement and pleasure , and was so pretty that I could hardly eat for looking at her -- which is the highest compliment in a boy 's power to pay . The Story Girl , on the contrary , was under eclipse . She was pale and lustreless from her disturbed night and early rising ; and no opportunity offered to tell a melting tale . Nobody took any notice of her . It was Felicity 's day .
After tea Mrs. Frewen and her sister wished XXXXX visit their father 's grave in the Carlisle churchyard .
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