"They was lovely and soft," the old woman said meditatively; "an' the nursery with its big fire and bright brass fender, an' the pictures and toys, an' the red-cushioned rockin'-cheer, I seem as I can see it all now. The nurse were tall and stern, but the little ladies, there were three on 'em, they were always ready for a game with me. And I used to swing 'em on the lawn, and help 'em to clean out their rabbit hutches. Dear life! What a happy little maid I was!" Peggy gulped down a sob. Mrs. Creek looked at her and saw that tears were running down her cheeks. "It seems like 'eaven," she murmured, wiping her tears away with the back of her hand and hoisting Arthur on her lap, as the little urchin was getting restless. "How little could you go out to service with, 'm, please? If you was ever so careful, wouldn't one print dress be enough? You could wash it out careful when you went to bed—leastways, any dirty patches you could." Mrs. Creek shook her head. "If you goes to ladies' service you must 'ave an outfit," she remarked importantly. "Like as if you were goin' to marry!" said Peggy, with another big sigh. "But," said Mrs. Creek, "'tisn't many got such a chance as I had. I was country-born, ye see, an' my father were under-gardener at the Hall." Peggy's face became gloomy. "Tis no use hopin', is it? I 'ave saved up some pence, 'm. Just what I've earned proper, but see—'ow many before I could get a gown? Why, hundreds, wouldn't it be?" She produced out of the bosom of her shabby bodice a dirty-looking piece of rag; unknotting it carefully, she counted out sevenpence halfpenny. Mrs. Creek nodded and smiled. "That's a beginnin', dearie. Maybe by the time yer aunt will be wantin' yer no longer, you'll have a goodish sum." Peggy brightened up. "And 'ow did you stick your caps on, please 'm? Did you have longer hair than mine?" "Well, yes, I think I had a fine lot in those days, and I plaited it neatly and had a nice flat cap, not one o' these cockatoo sort o' arrangements that girls wear nowadays." "And tell me now about the rooms, please 'm!" Mrs. Creek began her descriptions, that had already been given to Peggy many and many a time before; but the child listened with open mouth and eyes, until small customers began to crowd in. It was Saturday, and fathers had come home from their work with pence to spare. Mrs. Creek had to put aside her reminiscences for the time, and, after waiting a little longer, Peggy reluctantly departed with her charge. A sharp-faced girl soon joined her outside. "'Ulloo, Peg! H'aint seen you for years." "Where have you bin?" demanded Peggy. "I've j'ined the boot factory, and, I say! H'our Emma has gone to be a slavey!" "Has she? Where? I wish I could!" "You be a pair o' sillies, the two on yer! Catch me bein' a slavey! No, not I!" "Where has Emma gone?" "To the pork-butcher's. An' her missis hit 'er with a bootbrush las' Saturday. I'd like to have had that done to me!"