Mrs. Martin had been settled for over six weeks, and the day of Queen Maggie's great reception at the school in Kensington was drawing on apace. Mrs. Martin was in a state of subdued excitement. She was dressed in her best. Her best consisted of a light fawn-colored silk with velvet trimmings of the same. The silk rustled as she walked. On her fingers were many rings of much brilliancy, and she wore a small diamond brooch at her throat. The reason of all this festive attire was a simple one, a good one, a domestic one. James Martin was coming home. He had been in Liverpool, engaged on special business, for the greater part of a week; but he was now returning to his beloved Little-sing, who had missed him, and he was pleased to feel that he would be with her again. She knew his tastes to a nicety, and had desired the cook to prepare a very special dinner for his delectation. "Beef-steak pudding, cook," she said, "with mutton kidneys, and plenty of oysters; and be sure the crust is very light." Cook replied that if she did not know how to make beef-steak pudding she ought immediately to leave her "perfession." She was a stout, red-faced woman, and had a way of frightening Mrs. Martin, who generally retreated from the kitchen premises as quickly as possible. "Very well," said Mrs. Martin; "I am glad you quite understand. You know that my husband is very particular. Then we'll have potatoes and fried mushrooms, and I think afterwards apple-tart and cream." The cook, whose name was Horniman, condescended to signify her willingness to provide this dinner, and Mrs. Martin went up to the drawing-room. "You had better light a fire here, Matilda," she said. "It's going to be a very cold day." "I'd a sight rayther you called me Tildy, mum. It seems like as though a lump o' ice got on my 'eart when you say Mat-tilda." "'Matilda' is more refined and suitable," said Mrs. Martin with dignity. "Oh yes, 'um--'course, 'um. When 'ull Miss Maggie be comin' to see us, 'um?" "Not before Christmas, you silly girl. Miss Maggie is at school." "So I 'ave 'eard," said Matilda. "You 'aven't give me no 'olidays, 'um, sence I come to yer; and it were understood, sure-_ly_, that I were to 'ave my day out once a month." "You shall go out to-morrow, Matilda. I haven't the slightest wish to keep you indoors against your will." "To-morrer's cook's day, 'um." "Well, then, you shall go the next day." "Thank you, 'um. I thought I'd go and see Miss Maggie ef you'd give me her address." "Well, now, that's a very good idea," said Mrs. Martin. "I could write her a little note, and you could take it to her. That's very thoughtful of you, Tilda. Yes, I should like you to go and bring me word how she is." "It's longin' I am to lay eyes on 'er, mum. She's a bee-utiful way with 'er," said Matilda.