, Miss," said Maggie, who had gone to open her oven, and poke
up the fire while Polly was speaking; "it's a weight off my shoulders,
Miss, for I wasn't never one to be bothered with thinking. Mother says
as I haven't brains as would go on the top of a sixpenny-bit, so what's
to be expected of me, Miss. There, the oven's all of a beautiful glow,
and 'ull bake lovely. You was asking what breakfast I has put in the
servants' 'all--well, cold bacon and plenty of bread, and a good pat of
the cooking butter. Why, Miss Polly, oh, lor, what is the matter, Miss?"

"Only that you have done very wrong, Maggie," said Polly. "You would not
like to have lots of good things going up to the dining-room, and have
no share yourself. I call it selfish of you, Maggie, for of course you
knew you would be in the kitchen with me, and would be sure to come in
for bits. Cold bacon, indeed! Poor servants, they're not likely to care
for my housekeeping if that is all I provide for them! No, Maggie, when
I made out my programme, I thought of the servants as well as the
family. I will just refer to my tablets, Maggie, and see what breakfast
I arranged for the hall for Monday morning."

While Polly was speaking Maggie opened her eyes and mouth wider and
wider and when the young lady read aloud from her tablets she could not
suppress an expostulatory "oh!"

"Monday--kitchen breakfast," read Polly--"Bacon, eggs, marmalade,
sardines. Hot coffee, fresh rolls, if possible."

"My word, but that is wasteful," said Maggie.

Polly's cheeks flushed. She glanced at her small handmaid, raised her
hand in a reproving manner, and continued to read--

"Dining-room breakfast: Hot scones, baked muffins, eggs and bacon,
deviled kidneys, scrambled eggs, a dish of kippered herrings, marmalade,
honey, jam, tea and coffee. Oh, and chocolate for Firefly."

"My word, Miss," again exclaimed Maggie. "It's seven o'clock now, and
the Doctor likes his breakfast sharp on the table at eight. If we has to
get all this ready in an hour we had better fly round and lose no more
time. I'll see to the 'all, bless your kind 'eart, Miss Polly, but we'd
better get on with the dining-room breakfast, or there'll be nothing
ready in anything like time. Will you mix up the cakes, Miss Polly,
while I sees to the kidneys, and to the bacon and eggs, and the
scrambled eggs, and the kippers. My word, but there'll be a power more
sent up than can be eaten. But whatever goes wrong we should ha