"Oh, of course," Joyce replied, hastily beating a retreat; "now take your things off, and come downstairs as quick as possible. It is tea-time." "My dear Helen," she said, when she joined her sister, "what an extraordinary specimen you have got hold of." "She is an original, but I'm hoping she may be a treasure. Don't laugh at her, Joyce; she takes life in real earnest. She has done me good already. I was feeling so miserable when she arrived." "Poor old thing! You're worn out. Shut the front door, and come and sit down. We shall all feel better after a cup of tea. Do you hear the kitchen fire crackling? Doesn't that cheer you up?" "We shall never get our furniture into the rooms," sighed Helen. "We ought to have sold more, and brought much less." "I shan't speak to you till we've had tea!" Joyce went off to the kitchen, singing; then a few minutes after came back to her sister. "We haven't a drop of milk in the house. I've forgotten all about it." "The farm is close; send Peggy." "So I will." Joyce ran upstairs. She found Peggy holding out one of her print dresses, and gazing at it with loving admiration. "I'm just a-goin' to get into it, please 'm." "Oh, you needn't do that to-night. Slip on an apron. But I want you first of all to run up to the farm for some milk. I will show you where it is. Put on your hat again, and make haste." Peggy breathlessly obeyed. Joyce took her outside the gate, and pointed to another large gate on the opposite side of the road. "Go through that, and keep to the footpath across the field; then go through another gate, and you'll reach the farmyard. Get a pint of milk from Mrs. Green, the farmer's wife, and tell her who sent you. She'll know then; and it will be all right. Do you quite understand?" "Yes 'm." Peggy departed with pleased importance. She was a long time gone, but at last she reappeared with a very sober face. "Come along; where's the milk?" asked Joyce, meeting her at the front door. "Please 'm, I haven't got it!" "Why? Have you spilt it? What is the matter?" For answer Peggy slowly pulled up her skirt, and displayed one boot, which she raised in the air for inspection. It was certainly very muddy. "I had to turn back 'm. It was awful! I never see'd such mud—never! It ain't like the mud I've bin accustomed to; it sticks! And it got worse, and a cab-horse wouldn't a-walked through it!" Joyce stared at her, then lost her patience. "You stupid girl! It's no good to be afraid of mud in the country. Here are we waiting for our tea! How do you expect us to get our milk? If you don't do it, I must." Tears that had been very near the surface now ran over. "Please 'm, it's my best boots, and they cost four shillings and sixpence; but I'll try again 'm." Peggy choked down a sob, and departed. Joyce went back to her sister half-amused, half-vexed. "She thinks no end of her clothes," she said. "If she could only see what a little guy she looks!"