think of your Hundred-Trip ticket-book till it
was too late. Do take your book out and hold it in your hand, so
you'll be sure to remember it, as soon as you see Willis. You had
better keep saying over to yourself, 'Willis--Hundred-Trip
Tickets--Willis--Hundred-Trip Tickets;' that's the way _I_ do. Where
_is_ the book? I have to remember everything! _Do_ keep your
ticket-book in your hand, Edward, till Willis comes."

Roberts: "But I want to read, Agnes, and I've got to hold my _Pop.
Sci._ with one hand and keep your traps in my lap with the other. Did
you find a cook?"

Mrs. Roberts, with rapturous admiration of him: "Well, Edward, you
_have_ got a brain! I declare, the cook had utterly gone out of my
mind. Forgetting that plush bag makes me forget everything. I've got
a splendid one--a perfect treasure. She won't do any of the wash, and
we'll have to put that out; and she's been used to having a
kitchen-maid; but she said we were such a small family that she could
shell the pease herself. She's the most respectable-looking old thing
you ever saw; and she's been having ten dollars a week from the last
family she was in; but she'll come the summer with us for six. I was
very fortunate to get her; all the good girls are snapped up for the
sea-side in May, and they won't go into the country for love or money.
It was the greatest chance! She's such a neat, quiet, lady-like
person, and all the better for being Irish and a Catholic: Catholics
_do_ give so much more of a flavor; and I never could associate that
Nova Scotia, sunken-cheeked leanness of Maria's with a cook. This
one's name is--well, I forget what her name is; Bridget, or Norah, or
something like that--and she's a perfect little butter-ball. She's
coming to go out on the same train with us; and she'll get the dinner
to-night; and I sha'n't have the mortification of sitting down to a
pickup meal with Amy Campbell, the first time she has visited us;
she's conceited enough about her house-keeping as it is, I'm sure, and
I wouldn't have her patronizing and pitying me for worlds. The cook
will be here at half-past three precisely; I had to pretend the train
started a little earlier than it does so as to make her punctual; they
_are_ such uncertain things! and I don't suppose I shall be back by
that time, quite, Edward, and so you must receive her. Let me see!"
She glances up at the clock on the wall. "It's just quarter-past now,
and our train goes at ten minutes to