“An excellent idea,” Ellie agreed, and she practically pushed the housekeeper out the door.

“Somehow I don't think Charles will be happy to hear about this,” Helen said.

“Nonsense. He knows that the fire wasn't my fault.”

“Does he?” Helen asked dubiously.

“Well, if he doesn't, he should. Now then, let us begin our work.” Ellie instructed a scullery maid to pull out Wycombe Abbey's largest pot, and then she dumped the berries into it. “I suppose we could make several different types of jam,” she said to Helen, “but I think a mixed berry jam will be delicious.”

“And,” Helen said, “we can do it all in one pot.”

“You're catching on quickly.” Ellie smiled and then proceeded to add sugar and water. “We shall probably have to make another batch, though. I doubt this will be enough for all of the tenants.”

Helen leaned forward and peered in. “Probably not. But if it's truly this easy, I don't see why that should be a worry. We can simply make another potful tomorrow.”

“This is really all there is to it,” Ellie said. “Now we just need to cover it up and let the mixture cook.” She moved the pot to the perimeter of the stovetop, away from the firebox which burned at its hottest directly underneath the center of the cooking surface. She didn't need any more accidents in the kitchen.

“How long will it take?” Helen asked.

“Oh, most of the day. I could try to cook it faster, but then I would have to monitor the jam more closely, and stir it more frequently. With all that sugar it's likely to stick to the bottom. As it is, I will have to have one of the maids stir it while I'm gone. I shall come back every hour or so to check on its progress.”

“I see.”

“My brother-in-law once suggested I put rocks on the lid. He said it would cook even faster.”

“I see,” Helen said automatically, and then she added, “No, actually I don't see.”

“It keeps the steam inside, which increases the pressure. That, in turn, allows the jam to cook at a hotter temperature.”

“Your brother-in-law must be quite scientific.”

“Yes, he is quite.” Ellie set the lid on the pot and added, “It is of no matter, anyway. I'm in no rush. I only have to make sure the maids stir it frequently.”

“That sounds easy enough,” Helen said.

“Oh, it is. Completely foolproof.” Ellie held her hand a few inches above the stovetop one last time to check that the heat was not too high, and then they left the kitchen.

Ellie pinned a watch onto her sleeve so that she would remember to check on the jam at appropriate intervals. It cooked slowly but evenly and, in Ellie's opinion, tasted delicious. The pot was thick and didn't get too hot over the low heat, so Ellie was able to grip the handles as she stirred, which was an added convenience.