Faith sprang off her bed, lifted Joan out of hers, and, untidy as she was, hurried down the stairs. Suddenly the remembrance of Mary's injured hand and the scene in the kitchen came back to her. "I suppose it is all right, as she has got the dinner ready. Oh, Irene!" Irene came running up the stairs, looking flushed and hurried, but very well pleased. She had a big apron on over her cotton frock, and as she came along she was turning down her sleeves. "I've got to wash my hands and tidy my hair, and I mustn't keep you waiting," she said as she whisked past. "I won't be more than a moment." Audrey, descending from her attic, joined the little group. Her head was full of what she had been writing, and it took her a second or two to realise things. "Oh, Irene, I hope you haven't been dull. I never meant to leave you alone so long, but I was working, and--and forgot. How hot you look. What have you been doing?" "I am rather. I have been cooking. Oh, I have had a lovely time. Do run down and look at my pudding--but I must fly, or everything will be cold!" and Irene whisked away and into her bedroom. Audrey and Faith did not rush down at once to look at Irene's pudding. They looked at each other instead, and in the eyes of each dawned a look of shame and remorse. "I quite forgot," gasped Faith. "I never remembered," gasped Audrey, "was Mary--couldn't Mary?" But Faith had flown, leaving Joan to toddle after her. In the hall she met Mary hurrying to the dining-room with a big dish. Her hand was bound up, but was out of the sling, and she looked quite gay and cheerful. "Oh, Mary!" she said, following her into the room, "I never thought about your not being able to manage, I _am_ so sorry. It is not much use to be sorry now, though, is it?" "No," said Mary, laughing, "it isn't, Miss Faith--but it's all right, Miss Irene helped me. Oh, she is a clever young lady, Miss Faith, and so nice, she--she will wash dishes, and make cake, and sweep the kitchen, or--or anything, and be a lady all the time!" "Cook! Can Miss Irene cook?" "I should think she can, miss. It's a long time since we had a dinner so nice, or--or my kitchen either," added Mary honestly, as she hurried out to it again. "You come and look, Miss Faith. She's washed away all the dishes and has made the place look like a little palace." "Washed the dishes!" Audrey groaned in bitterness of spirit, as she and Faith followed Mary out. In spite of dinner having just been cooked there, Audrey saw at a glance that this was the kitchen of her dreams--the neat, clean kitchen she had longed for, but had never attempted to create. Mary looked at them both, her face glowing. Irene's interest and encouragement had quite inspired her; and her practical help had shown her the way. Every one of her few chance words, too, had gone home.