It took her so long though to find soap and nailbrush, and a towel, and a brush and comb, that when, at last, she did get down to the kitchen she found Faith just leaving it with a cup of hot beef tea on a tray, and a plate of stewed fruit and custard. Joan sat on the floor, this time happy with the bellows, while Mary chopped cold potatoes as fast as she could in the frying-pan over the gas ring. "If I can only get something ready for the master to have, I don't mind," she gasped, pausing for a moment. "There is plenty of cold beef, that is one comfort, and some stewed fruit; but I did mean to have had a hot dinner, and have kept the cold meat for supper." "Never mind, that will be all right. It is lucky we had it." Audrey's ideas as to what was suitable for dinner, and what should only be had for suppers, had undergone a sharp and swift change. She resented a little Mary's tone of proprietorship, but she decided that it would be wiser to await another opportunity to tell Mary that it was for her, Audrey, to arrange what they should have for this meal and that. She took up a magazine which was lying on the table. "There doesn't seem to be anything for me to do," she said, contentedly dropping into a chair. She was very glad, for she was very tired. "Oh, dear! how my legs ache. I feel as though I don't want to do a thing more to-day." Mary looked at Audrey once or twice with disapproval, as she sat lazily turning over the pages. She hardly liked to say what was in her mind, for she was a little in awe of her master's eldest daughter, who seemed to know so much better than anyone else how things should be done, and to have been accustomed to everything so much grander than they were at the Vicarage. Loyalty to Faith, though, gave her courage. Faith, so good-tempered and willing, at the beck and call of everyone. If Audrey was tired, so were they all--and with working for her, too--and Faith was feeling quite sick with the pain in her head. "There is the cloth to lay, miss," she said, reluctantly. "I haven't been able to do that yet. Miss Faith said she would, but she is feeling so bad----" "Oh, isn't the cloth laid!" in a disappointed voice, "then I suppose," reluctantly, "I had better do it. Where do you keep it, Mary, and where shall I find the glasses, and the table napkins, and the silver?" Mary stopped and showed her, running back between whiles to attend to the potatoes. Audrey laid the cloth, and turned to the plate-basket. "I suppose I ought to polish each fork and spoon as I lay it," she thought, ruefully, "it all looks smeary; but, I can't bother. I am too tired to-day. The things shouldn't be put away smeary," she added crossly, "it is only leaving the work for someone else to do." When she had finished laying the silver, she went out to the kitchen again and collected the glasses. Every one had the smeary look that glasses have if they have been wiped with a damp, and not too clean, cloth.