Mrs. Roberts, with rapturous admiration of him: “Well, Edward, you _have_ got a brain! I declare, the cook had utterly gone out of my mind. Forgetting that plush bag makes me forget everything. I’ve got a splendid one--a perfect treasure. She won’t do any of the wash, and we’ll have to put that out; and she’s been used to having a kitchen-maid; but she said we were such a small family that she could shell the pease herself. She’s the most respectable-looking old thing you ever saw; and she’s been having ten dollars a week from the last family she was in; but she’ll come the summer with us for six. I was very fortunate to get her; all the good girls are snapped up for the sea-side in May, and they won’t go into the country for love or money. It was the greatest chance! She’s such a neat, quiet, lady-like person, and all the better for being Irish and a Catholic: Catholics _do_ give so much more of a flavor; and I never could associate that Nova Scotia, sunken-cheeked leanness of Maria’s with a cook. This one’s name is--well, I forget what her name is; Bridget, or Norah, or something like that--and she’s a perfect little butter-ball. She’s coming to go out on the same train with us; and she’ll get the dinner to-night; and I sha’n’t have the mortification of sitting down to a pickup meal with Amy Campbell, the first time she has visited us; she’s conceited enough about her house-keeping as it is, I’m sure, and I wouldn’t have her patronizing and pitying me for worlds. The cook will be here at half-past three precisely; I had to pretend the train started a little earlier than it does so as to make her punctual; they _are_ such uncertain things! and I don’t suppose I shall be back by that time, quite, Edward, and so you must receive her. Let me see!” She glances up at the clock on the wall. “It’s just quarter-past now, and our train goes at ten minutes to four--My goodness! I’ll have to hurry.” The Colored Man who cries the trains, walking half-way into the room and then out: “Cars ready for Cottage Farms, Longwood, Chestnut Hill, Brookline, Newton Centre, Newton Highlands, Waban, Riverside, and all stations between Riverside and Boston. Circuit Line train now ready on Track No. 3.” Mrs. Roberts, in extreme agitation: “Good gracious, Edward, that’s our train!” Roberts, jumping to his feet and dropping all her packages: “No, no, it isn’t, my dear! That’s the Circuit Line train: didn’t you hear? Ours doesn’t go till ten to four, on the Main Line.”