ry ill. Now just be as plucky as ever you can
while I dress it. Faith, where can I find some rag?"

"Oh, I don't know," groaned Faith. "Irene, do you think a piece of her
finger has really come off?"

"No!" Irene, who had been examining the wound, spoke almost impatiently.
"The cut is a deep one, but it will be all right in a few days. Do try
and find some rag or bandage, Faith. I want to bind it up as tightly as
possible to stop the bleeding. If you haven't any I will get one of my
handkerchiefs."

Faith, much relieved in her mind, ran off hurriedly. Mary's sobs became
quieter, but as she grew less frightened about herself, she grew more
worried about her work.

"Whatever shall I do!" she wailed, "there's the dinner to get, and I've
got to make cake to-day! Oh, what can I do! We'll have to have in a
woman, and see what that costs!"

Poor Mary's innocent words brought Irene's wandering thoughts to a
standstill. Mary's concern for her master's purse touched her, and filled
her with a deep respect for the simple, loyal, country girl.

"Oh, but we need not do that, Mary," she said kindly, "you will be able to
use your other hand quite well, and this one too, for some things.
Of course, you can't make cake, but I can. I often made it at home; and I
can cook the dinner too, if you will tell me what you want."

"Oh! but Miss Irene, I couldn't let you!" Mary was so taken aback she
forgot all about the cut hand, and let Irene bathe it without once
wincing. "Oh, miss! I--I couldn't. The master wouldn't like it, and--
and----"

"The master need not know anything about it, at least, not until it is
done, then I will ask him if he approves of his new cook. I expect he
will say he prefers his old one! Now Mary--you are not to say anything
about it. I love cooking, and I want to practise, and I think it will be
the greatest fun."

Faith came dashing in with an old pillow-case in her hand. "You will have
to use some of this, I am afraid. I know there is a heap of real rag
somewhere, but I can't stay to look any further. Joan has pulled over the
water-jug and drenched herself to the skin. I must fly!"

Irene looked at Mary, and Mary looked at the pillowcase. "Seems a pity to
tear that up," she said anxiously, "it wants a bit of mending, but it is
one of the best. If you will wait a minute, miss, I think I know where I
can put my hand on a piece," and Mary scrambled to her feet, forgetful of
her faintnes