I know very well yen always like the baked, when I have them.
Don't you, now, Emily ?' 'Mother, which you like! What _does_ it matter ?' 'Well, my dear, I'm sure I only wanted to please you,' said Mrs.Hood, in her tone of patience under injury.

'I can't see why you should be angry with me.

If I could give you more choice I would.

No doubt you're used to having potatoes done in all sorts of superior ways, but unfortunately I wasn't brought up as a cook--' The strange look with which Emily was regarding her brought her to a pause; her voice dropped.
'Mother dear,' said the girl, in a low and shaken tone, 'I am neither foolish nor unkind; do try to believe that.

Something is troubling me.
To-day let your choice be mine.' Mrs.Hood moved away, and served the dinner in silence.
'What is your trouble, my dear ?' she asked presently.