But she could not help feeling it was out of keeping when James, and John, and Eunice stared so at her, and Mrs.Markham asked her if she hadn't better tie on an apron for fear she might get grease or something on her.

With ready alacrity Eunice, who fancied her young mistress looked like a queen, forgetting in her admiration that she had ever thought her proud, ran for her own clean, white apron, which she offered to the lady.
But Ethelyn declined it, saying, "My napkin is all that I shall require." Mrs.Markham, and Eunice, and Andy glanced at each other.

Napkins were a luxury in which Mrs.Markham had never indulged.

She knew they were common in almost every family of her acquaintance; but she did not see of what use they were, except to make more washing, and as her standard of things was the standard of thirty years back she was not easily convinced; and even Melinda Jones had failed on the napkin question.
Ethelyn had been too much excited to observe their absence the previous night, and she now spoke in all sincerity, never dreaming that there was not such an article in the house.

But there was a small square towel of the finest linen, and sacred to the memory of Daisy, who had hemmed it herself and worked her name in the corner.