affected patent-leather shoes with red
or green tops; he walked as if he despised the size of them.

Arriving at the snug little cottage, he was brought face to face with
one of the common tragedies of a housekeeper's life. The cook and the
nursemaid, who also acted as waitress and chambermaid, had indulged in
one of their controversies during his absence, and the former had
departed, vowing she would never return. Here it was luncheon time and
no one to get it! He knew that Bridget would be back before dinner
time--she always did come back--but in the meantime what were they to
do? There wasn't a thing in the house.

He found himself wishing he had stayed in the city for luncheon.

Annie's story was a long one, but he gathered from it that Bridget was
wholly to blame for the row. Annie was very positive as to that.

"Have we any eggs?" asked the dismayed master.

"Eggs? How should I know, sir?" demanded Annie. "It's Bridget's place
to know what's in the pantry, not mine. The Lord knows I have enough
to do without looking after her work."

"Excuse me," said he, apologetically. He hesitated for a moment and
then came to a decision. "I guess I'd better go and see what we've
got. If we've got eggs, I can fry 'em. Bridget will be back this
evening."

"I'm not so sure of that," said Annie, belligerently. "I told her this
was the last time, the very last."

"I'll bet you a quarter she comes back," said he, brightly.

"Gee! What a sport you are!" scoffed Annie.

He flushed. "Will you please set the table?"

"It's set."

"Oh!"

"I'll help you make the toast, if you'd like," said she, a sudden
feeling of pity for him coming into her niggardly soul.

"Thanks," he said, briskly. "And the tea, too?"

"I think we'd better have coffee," said she, asserting a preference
for the housemaid's joy.

"Just as you say," he acquiesced, hastily. "Where is Phoebe?"

"Next door with the Butler kids--children, I mean. Maybe they'll ask
her to stay to lunch."

He gave her a surprise. "Go over and tell her to come home. I don't
want her staying to luncheon with those damned Butlers."

She stared, open-mouthed. "I'm sure, sir, they're quite as good as--as
we are. What have you got against 'em?"

He could not tell her that Butler, who worked in a bank, never took
the trouble to notice him except when Nellie was out to spend Sunday.

"Never mind. Go and get Phoebe."

He made a dash for the kitchen, and when the exasperated