"You'll make a very bad job of it," said Peggy, shaking her head at him. "I 'spect it wants a gran' clean-up inside, like this here room that I've done so fine. Seems to me," she went on dreamily, "that souls be very like rooms. They ain't fit to live in till the Lord comes along and turns 'em clean inside out; gets rid o' the rubbish and dusts and tidies 'em proper. Even then, if He's to live in 'em, I 'spect He finds 'em wantin' a clean, and dustin' every day. There be always such a lot o' dirt and dust and rubbish in at the doors and windows, and if He misses one day, I daresay they gets in a pretty mess." "You be a strange little maid," said Job; "I can't foller the argyment!" "I'm only telling yer the way to get yer soul made well and happy," repeated Peggy. "If you has Jesus a-livin' in it, you'll feel awful well." The entrance of Bill stopped further discussion. He looked at Peggy with a pleased smile. "You do be a neat-handed maid," he remarked. "How you do hearten up our place!" "'Tis you that untidies it after I goes," said Peggy, with her chin in the air. "I never can make out what you does to get the place so muddly." She always gave herself airs with Bill; he seemed so big and clumsy that she lost patience with him. He now stood in the middle of the room, with his mouth partly open, rumpling his shock of thick hair with his big hands. "We oughter have womankind to set us to rights, and to keep us there," he murmured. "No," said his father, "we'll do finely, Bill, without 'em." "So you will," said Peggy brightly, taking her departure; "and I'll give you a look up agen soon, mister; and you just do what I was a-tellin' you of. 'Tis easy if you sets your mind to it." CHAPTER IX "I'M A-GOIN' BACK TO LONDON!" ONE Monday morning Peggy was very busy making raspberry jam under Helen's superintendence. Joyce had gone away for a week's visit to some friends, and Helen was alone. Helen had just left the kitchen and gone upstairs to get some jam papers, when Peggy heard a terrible crash and heavy fall. She rushed out of the kitchen and, to her horror, found that her mistress had fallen the whole length of the narrow flight of stairs, and, in falling, had struck her head with considerable violence against a corner of the wainscoting. She was lying unconscious at the foot of the stairs, and blood was oozing slowly out from a cut on her head. For a moment Peggy lost her presence of mind. She uttered a loud shriek, and rushing to the front door screamed, "Help! Murder! Thieves! Fire!" No one heard her cries, and, as she afterwards remarked, "'Twas as well, for it were lies I shouted, but the words wouldn't come proper, I were so full of horror, but I knowed the very worst had happened, and so the worst slipped off my tongue!"