“Father, I have come to assist,” said she, in her most authoritative voice. “And it’s no use telling me nay, because I know this stranger’s demands cannot be met without my help.”
The printer looked up from the yellowed papers on the table and raised his gray-tinged brows.
“I expected to hear such nonsense from ye, my daughter,” said he, waving her off. “Be gone with your mischievous plans.”
“But I —”
“Here is a new commedia dell’arte that I acquired yesterday while in town,” Totts interrupted. “I was saving it for your birthday, but here, take it as an early gift. And be gone with you!” He handed her a thin volume with a cover of purple leather and gold lettering. His smile belied his harsh words.
“Oh, my,” said Ella, distracted. She held the book to her nose and inhaled deeply. “I can just smell how exhilarating this read will be. Very well, Father. As you wish.”
With that, Ella hurried to the barn to read her comedy.
And also, to plot.
Her Father would need to stop for a refreshment or to rest his weary feet, surely! And what if he accidentally consumed his beloved hot toddy that always made his eyes droop a bit, perhaps for half an hour? The lost time would not matter at all, as she would step in and continue the work while he slept. If she glanced at the words while progressing on this arduous task, it would not hurt anyone, and her curiosity would be satisfied.
Setting her new tome aside, she hurried into their cottage to put the pot to boil.