the best," said Aubrey. "It is dangerous to prophesy."

"We're going to keep a cow, Jimmie!" I said, rapturously.

"Well, don't gurgle about it. You act as if keeping a cow put the
stamp of the Four Hundred on you. Did Mary say you might?"

"Mary has given her consent," said Aubrey. "But I'm wondering how that
old woman will behave with other servants. Of course she was all right
while there was no one else and she was boss of the ranch, but we must
have two or three now at Peach Orchard, and she is so jealous, I wonder
if she will let us live with her!"

Well might we have wondered. Trouble began the very next day. As we
went out on the train I noticed that Mary had on her best dress and
hat. She had no bag with her, so I wondered how she meant to "settle"
in such clothes. The Angel and I had on our worst.

I comforted myself with the reflection that there would not be very
much dirty work to do. This would in reality be a kid-glove moving,
for Mr. Close had telephoned the day before that everything was ready
for us to move in. I had even sent a cleaning woman for floors and
windows.

I had taken the precaution to bring a few silver knives, forks, and
spoons in my bag. Then as we got off the train I stopped at a grocery
and bought a loaf of bread, a tin of devilled ham, one of sardines,
some butter, and a dozen eggs, so we were at least sure of our luncheon.

We jumped out of the carriage almost before it had stopped, and, while
Aubrey paid the man, I ran up the steps and into the house.

Such a sight of confusion met my eyes! The old paper was piled in the
middle of each floor, and not a new strip on any wall. One ceiling
only in the whole house was finished. Not a hardwood floor had been
laid. The lumber was piled in the hall. Not a chandelier was up. The
ragged wires projected from their various holes in ceilings and walls.
Where was my cleaning woman? Where were our workmen? Above all, where
was the perfidious Mr. Close?

There was no furnace fire, and the water was not turned on. I ran back
and Aubrey shouted for the carriage, just turning out of the grounds,
to come back.

"Go to the plumbers!" I said, incoherently, "and to the electric light
men, and to the agents, and see where the men are, and bring some
brooms and buckets and send me a grocer's boy."

He turned away, breathing vengeance. I felt sorry for Mr. Close.

"And to the telephone company!" I cried, after the departin