r,
and scour the country until the dreaded hour was passed.

Cook was furious, as any right-minded cook would, under such
circumstances, be.

"How," she demanded, "could she be expected to make anything out of
nothing? She knew her work as well as most, and no one couldn't say but
what she made the best of materials, but she wasn't a magician, nor yet
a conjurer, and didn't set up to be, and therefore could not be expected
to cook a dinner when there was no dinner to cook. It was enough to
wear a body out, all these upsets and bothers, and she was sick of it.
It was no good living in a place where you were blamed for what was not
your fault. She did her best, and saints could do no more!" So on and
so on, while Peggy stood by, sighing like a furnace, and feeling it a
just punishment for her sins that she should be condemned to listen
without excuses. Meekness, however, is sometimes a more powerful weapon
than severity, and despite her hot temper cook adored her young
mistress, and could not long endure the sight of the disconsolate face.
The angry words died away into subdued murmurings, she rolled up her
sleeves, and announced herself ready to obey orders. "For no one should
say as she hadn't done her duty by any house, as long as she lived in
it."

"It's more than can be said of me, cook, I'm afraid; but help me out of
this scrape like a good soul, and I'll be a reformed character for the
rest of my life! This will be a lesson which I shall never forget!"
declared Peggy honestly; but she did not suspect in how serious a sense
her words would become true. The adventures of that morning were not
yet over, and the consequences therefrom were more lasting than she
could anticipate.

CHAPTER TWENTY ONE.

It is a well-known axiom that misfortunes never come singly, and if
those misfortunes are brought about by our own carelessness, they are
none the less easy to bear. What were Peggy's feelings then, on going
to her key basket, to find it lying empty on the floor, with never a
sign of its contents to be seen! Where had she put them? Memory
brought back a misty recollection of hurrying through her work the
morning before, in order to begin some more congenial occupation, and of
having laid down the bunch in careless fashion, thinking the while that
she would come back for it later on. But where had she placed it?
Where, oh, where? Up and down the room she raced, to and fro she ran,
wringing her hands