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"I believe they are 'cookers,"" said he, sniffing at them suspiciously.

"Hold them up to the light, sir. There, they are quite bright and nice. In with them! Now, if you will cut some bread and butter it, we shall soon have our supper ready."

"It's too new to cut," cried Frank, sawing away upon the kitchen table. Besides, new

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bread is better in chunks. Here are some cloths and knives and forks in the dresser drawer. I will go and lay the table."

"And leave me here alone. No please, Frank, if I am cook, you must be scullerymaid. Get the cups down and put the cocoa in them. What fun it all is! I think it is simply splendid to be mistress of a house."

"With one scullery-maid."

"And she perfectly incompetent, and much given to embracing her mistress. I must take my hat off. Get the sugar for the cocoa out of the cupboard. The kettle is singing, so it won't be long. Do you know, Frank "-she paused, listening, with the egg-saucepan in her hands. "There's a dog or something in the room."

They had both become aware of a sort of sibilant breathing, and they looked round them in bewilderment.

"Where is it?" asked Maude. "Frank, I believe it's a mouse."

"Hope for the best. Don't frighten yourself unnecessarily. I fancy it comes from under these curtains." He approached them with his candle, and was suddenly aware of a boot which was projecting from them. "Great Scot!" he cried, "there's a woman here asleep."

Reassured as to the mouse, Maude approached with her saucepan still clutched in her hand. There could be no doubt either as to the woman or the sleep. She lay in an untidy heap, her head under the table, and her figure sprawling. She appeared to be a very large woman.

"Hullo!" cried Frank, shaking her by the shoulder. "Hullo, you there!"

But the woman slumbered peacefully on.

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Heh, wake up, wake up!" he shouted, and pulled her up into a sitting position. But she slept as soundly sitting as lying.

"The poor thing must be ill," said Maude. "O Frank, shall I run for a doctor?"

"Wake up, woman, wake up!" Frank yelled, and danced her up and down. She flopped about like a sawdust doll, with her arms swinging in front of her. He panted

with his exertions, but she was serenely unconscious. At last he had to lower her on to the floor again, putting a footstool under her head.

"It's no go," said he. "I can make nothing of her. She will sleep it off.”

"You don't mean to say, Frank, that she is

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"Indeed I do."

"How horrible!"

"That kettle is boiling now. Suppose we have our supper."

"Dear Frank, I could not enjoy my supper with that unfortunate woman lying there. O Frank, I know that you could not either."

"Bless her!" said Frank bitterly, as he gazed at the inert lump. "I really don't see why we should put ourselves out for her. She is quite comfortable."

"Oh I couldn't, Frank. It would seem inhuman."

"What are we to do, then?

"We must put her to bed."

"Great heavens!"

"Yes, dear, it is our duty to put her to bed."

"But look here, my dear girl, we must be practical. The woman weighs half a ton, and

the bedrooms are at the top of the house. It's simply impossible."

"Don't you think, Frank, that if you took her head and I took her feet, we might get her up?"

"Not up the stair, dear. She is enormous." "Well, then, on to the drawing-room sofa," said Maude. "I could have my supper, if I knew that she was safe upon the sofa."

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So Frank, seeing that there was no help for it, seized her under the arms, and Maude took her ankles, and they bore her, bulging but serene, down the passage. They staggered exhausted into the drawing-room, and the new sofa groaned beneath the weight. It was a curious and unsavoury inaugural ceremony. Maude put a rug over the prostrate form, and they returned to their boiling kettle and their uncooked eggs. Then they laid the table, and served the supper, and enjoyed this picnic meal of their own creating as no conventional meal could ever have been enjoyed. Everything seemed beautiful to the young wife-the wall-paper, the pictures, the carpet, the rug; but to him, she was so beautiful in mind, and soul, and body, that her presence turned the little room into an enchanted chamber. They sat long together, and marvelled at their own

happiness-that pure serene happiness of mere companionship, which is so much more intimate and deeper than all the transports of passion.

But suddenly he sprang from his chair. There was the sound of steps, of several steps, outside upon the gravel path. Then a key clicked, and a burst of cold air told them that the door was open.

"It's agin' the law for me to enter," said a gruff voice.

"I tell you she's very strong and violent,” said a second voice, which Frank recognised as that of Mrs. Watson. "She chased the maid out of the house, and I can do nothing with her."

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Very sorry, mum, but it's clean agin' the law of England. Give me a warrant, and in I come. If If you will bring her to the doorstep, I will be answerable for her removal."

"She's in the dining-room. I can see the lights," said Mrs. Watson; and then, "Good Lord, Mr. Crosse, what a fright you gave me ! Oh dearie me, that you should have come when I was out, and I not expecting you for another two days yet. Well, now, I shall never forgive myself for this."

But all the mistakes and misfortunes were

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