A few minutes later Audrey came out of her room, she had made herself as tidy as she could without hot water to wash with, or a brush or comb. Her own were not unpacked, and Faith's were nowhere to be seen. As she descended the stairs a strong smell of cooking poured up to meet her. "Sausages," she thought to herself, "what a funny time of day to have them." She was so hungry though, she could forgive the appearance of such a dish at such an hour. In the dining-room Tom and Debby were trundling a small tin train across the table from side to side, trying to avoid collisions with forks and spoons and cups and saucers, et cetera, by moving such things away. Faith was playing on the hearthrug with Joan. "Look, Audrey," she cried as her eldest sister entered, "this is baby! isn't she a darling!" Audrey looked down at the sweet little upturned face, at the big, velvety, violet eyes fixed so earnestly on herself. "Oh, you are a darling," she cried impulsively. "Will you come to me, Joan dear?" But Joan was shy at first and shrank back against Faith, though her eyes still scanned Audrey's face with interest. A moment later there was a crash against the door followed by a rattle of plates and dishes, diverting everyone's attention. Audrey swung round with a cry of alarm. She was not accustomed yet to the ways of the household. "It is only Mary bringing in the dishes and things," remarked Faith placidly, "she always bumps the door with her tray." Audrey wondered what granny would say if any one so treated the doors at 'Parkview.' She wondered too, when she saw her, what granny would think of Mary; round-faced, untidy, good-tempered Mary, with her crumpled apron, torn dress and untidy head. Audrey did not know then how patient, willing and hard-working Mary was. She only saw an untidy head with hair and cap falling over one ear, a red face and smutty hands, and wondered how her father, who followed her into the room could look at her and not send her away to make herself neat, or give her notice on the spot. Granny would not allow her to come into the room looking so untidy, and oh! what would Phipps think of her? She did not know then that poor Mary did more hard work in one day than prim Phipps did in four; did it willingly too, and for far less reward. "Tea's ready, miss," Mary announced loudly. "Master Tom, you'll have to pick up your toys now; and look at the litter you've made the table in! Miss Faith, shall I hold baby while you have your tea? I'll rompsy with her a bit, and that'll tire her out and make her sleepy." "Oh, thank you, Mary, she will love that." Faith handed her precious burthen over to the grimy, willing hands without a vestige of the shudder which ran up and down Audrey's spine at the sight of them.