It was good to have any sort of explanation, although it left a great deal unexplained. They passed through the hall with its shining linoleum, and into the drawing-room. It was not a very good room, too square for elegance, but they were in no humour for criticism, and it was charming to see all the old knick-knacks, and the photographs of friends in their frames. A big wrought-iron and brass-work standing lamp towered up near the fireplace, but again there was no oil. ‘I think that Mrs. Watson has arranged it all splendidly,’ said Maude, whose active fingers were already beginning to reconstruct. ‘But where can she be?’ ‘She must be out, for, of course, she lives in the house. But it is the absence of the servants which amazes me, for I understood that they had arrived. What would you like to do?’ ‘Aren’t you hungry, Frank?’ ‘Simply starving.’ ‘So am I.’ ‘Well, then, let us forage and see if we cannot find something to eat.’ So hand in hand, and each with a candle in the other hand, like a pair of young penitents, they continued their explorations with more purpose than before. The kitchen, into which they penetrated, had clearly been much used of late, for there were dirty dishes scattered about, and the fire had been lighted, though it was now out. In one corner was what seemed to be a pile of drab-coloured curtains. In the other, an armchair lay upon its side with legs projecting. A singular disorder, very alien to Mrs. Watson’s habits, pervaded the apartment. A dresser with a cupboard over it claimed the first attention of the hungry pair. With a cheer from Frank and hand-clapping from Maude, they brought out a new loaf of bread, some butter, some cheese, a tin of cocoa, and a bowl full of eggs. Maude tied an apron over her pretty russet dress, seized some sticks and paper, and had a fire crackling in a very few minutes. ‘Put some water in the kettle, Frank.’ ‘Here you are! Anything else?’ ‘Some in the small saucepan for the eggs.’ ‘I believe they are “cookers,”’ said he, sniffing at them suspiciously. ‘Hold them up to the light, sir. There, they are quite bright and nice. In with them! Now, if you will cut some bread and butter it, we shall soon have our supper ready.’ ‘It’s too new to cut,’ cried Frank, sawing away upon the kitchen table. ‘Besides, new bread is better in chunks. Here are some cloths and knives and forks in the dresser drawer. I will go and lay the table.’ ‘And leave me here alone. No please, Frank, if I am cook, you must be scullery-maid. Get the cups down and put the cocoa in them. What fun it all is! I think it is simply _splendid_ to be mistress of a house.’ ‘With one scullery-maid.’