"Dining-room breakfast: Hot scones, baked muffins, eggs and bacon, deviled kidneys, scrambled eggs, a dish of kippered herrings, marmalade, honey, jam, tea and coffee. Oh, and chocolate for Firefly." "My word, Miss," again exclaimed Maggie. "It's seven o'clock now, and the Doctor likes his breakfast sharp on the table at eight. If we has to get all this ready in an hour we had better fly round and lose no more time. I'll see to the 'all, bless your kind 'eart, Miss Polly, but we'd better get on with the dining-room breakfast, or there'll be nothing ready in anything like time. Will you mix up the cakes, Miss Polly, while I sees to the kidneys, and to the bacon and eggs, and the scrambled eggs, and the kippers. My word, but there'll be a power more sent up than can be eaten. But whatever goes wrong we should have the cakes in the oven, Miss Polly." Polly did not altogether approve of Maggie's tone, but time did press; the kitchen clock already pointed to five minutes past seven; it was much easier to write out a programme upstairs at one's leisure in the pleasant morning-room than to carry it out in a hurry, in the hot kitchen, particularly when one's own knowledge was entirely theoretical, not practical. Yes, the kitchen was very hot, and time never seemed to fly so fast. "First of all, open the window, Maggie; it is wrong to have rooms so hot as this," said the young housekeeper, putting on her most authoritative air. "No, Miss, that I mustn't," said Maggie, firmly. "You'd cool down the oven in less than five minutes. Now, shall I fetch you the flour and things from the store-room, Miss? Why, dear me, your cheeks has peonyed up wonderful. You're new to it yet, Miss, but you'll soon take it quiet-like. Cold bacon is a very nice breakfast for the 'all, Miss, and cooking butter's all that servants is expected to eat of. Now shall I fetch you the flour and the roller, and the milk, Miss Polly?" "Yes, get them," said Polly. She felt decidedly annoyed and cross. "I wish you would not talk so much, Maggie," she said, "go and fetch the materials for the hot cakes." "But I don't know yet what I'm to get, Miss. Is it a dripping cake, or is it a cream cake, or is it a butter-and-egg cake? I'll bring you things according, Miss Polly, if you'll be so good as to instruct me." "Oh dear, oh dear," said Polly, "you make my head go round, when you mention so many kinds of cake, Maggie. I really thought you knew something of cooking. I just want _hot cakes_. I don't care what kind they are; oh, I suppose we had better have the richest to-day. Get the material for the butter-and-egg cake, Maggie, and do be quick." Thus admonished, Maggie did move off with a dubious look on her face in the direction of the store-room.