At a quarter past four to the minute, there came a most genteel little tap-tappity. "Is Mrs. Ribston at home?" inquired Duchess in the porch. "Come in! and how do you do, my dear Duchess?" cried Ribby. "I hope I see you well?" "Quite well, I thank you, and how do YOU do, my dear Ribby?" said Duchess. "I've brought you some flowers; what a delicious smell of pie!" "Oh, what lovely flowers! Yes, it is mouse and bacon!" "Do not talk about food, my dear Ribby," said Duchess; "what a lovely white tea-cloth!.... Is it done to a turn? Is it still in the oven?" "I think it wants another five minutes," said Ribby. "Just a shade longer; I will pour out the tea, while we wait. Do you take sugar, my dear Duchess?" "Oh yes, please! my dear Ribby; and may I have a lump upon my nose?" "With pleasure, my dear Duchess; how beautifully you beg! Oh, how sweetly pretty!" Duchess sat up with the sugar on her nose and sniffed-- "How good that pie smells! I do love veal and ham--I mean to say mouse and bacon----" She dropped the sugar in confusion, and had to go hunting under the tea-table, so did not see which oven Ribby opened in order to get out the pie. Ribby set the pie upon the table; there was a very savoury smell. Duchess came out from under the table-cloth munching sugar, and sat up on a chair. "I will first cut the pie for you; I am going to have muffin and marmalade," said Ribby. "Do you really prefer muffin? Mind the patty-pan!" "I beg your pardon?" said Ribby. "May I pass you the marmalade?" said Duchess hurriedly. The pie proved extremely toothsome, and the muffins light and hot. They disappeared rapidly, especially the pie! "I think"--(thought the Duchess to herself)--"I THINK it would be wiser if I helped myself to pie; though Ribby did not seem to notice anything when she was cutting it. What very small fine pieces it has cooked into! I did not remember that I had minced it up so fine; I suppose this is a quicker oven than my own." "How fast Duchess is eating!" thought Ribby to herself, as she buttered her fifth muffin. The pie-dish was emptying rapidly! Duchess had had four helps already, and was fumbling with the spoon. "A little more bacon, my dear Duchess?" said Ribby. "Thank you, my dear Ribby; I was only feeling for the patty-pan." "The patty-pan? my dear Duchess?" "The patty-pan that held up the pie-crust," said Duchess, blushing under her black coat. "Oh, I didn't put one in, my dear Duchess," said Ribby; "I don't think that it is necessary in pies made of mouse." Duchess fumbled with the spoon--"I can't find it!" she said anxiously. "There isn't a patty-pan," said Ribby, looking perplexed. "Yes, indeed, my dear Ribby; where can it have gone to?" said Duchess. "There most certainly is not one, my dear Duchess. I disapprove of tin articles in puddings and pies. It is most undesirable--(especially when people swallow in lumps!)" she added in a lower voice.