1 The Irritating Bell

A pale and small hand, a worn out and dry hand, it gripped a pair of tongs and used it to seize a wire rack that held thick slices of bread. The wire rack was then taken to a spot close to an open flame so the bread could be toasted. The hand went up to a thinning apron so it could brush ash away.

A woman's voice a few feet away asked her, "Muriel, would you poach the eggs? I need to focus on the bacon." The sizzling noises were already beginning.

That woman, preparing the toast, was the only servant family could afford to keep.

But Muriel Devin was working with her regardless.

"I'll be there when the bread's finished," Muriel said as her blue-gray, slightly upturned eyes scanned the crusts and crumb. Her accent was more refined than the servant's, but it wasn't any less gentle.

But suddenly, a ringing! Muriel looked up to a panel of small bells on a wall, attached to cords that were threaded through holes in that wall. One of the bells was being furiously rattled.

It was Evelyn, Muriel's sister.

The nostrils of Muriel's straight nose flared as she inhaled. As she exhaled, her eyes narrowed. "I'm not going to bother with her. She knows we're preparing breakfast."

"Maybe you should go," the other woman said as she poked the bacon with a fork. She had a cloth around her throat to protect it from popping grease. "We don't want her to throw a tantrum."

Muriel looked back to the bread so she could flip the wire rack. "If she does that, I'll clout her lips to a bleeding state." Her tone was a bit deeper than before.

"Oh, don't let your temper control you," the servant warned with a laugh.

But the bell was still ringing.

And ringing.

Still ringing.

And a ringing was forming in Muriel's head too. She hated those bells.

Damn, there had better been an emergency!

When Muriel was satisfied with the toast, she put the wire rack on a plate and left her tongs near that. Then she dug her short fingernails into her skirt, giving her old boots more room to move, and ran out of the kitchen. The sweat on her face slid away as she hurried. One of the pins in her light blonde topknot fell out and clinked on a stone floor.

Then she was stepping on a wooden floor, then wooden stairs.

Her smooth hair drooped a little, touching her nape, as she ran upstairs and went for Evelyn's bedroom door. She slammed that door open and sent her older sister an enraged look. "What in the world is it?!"

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