before, but I can't just place it."

"I think it's sort of,--of Scotch, don't you?"

"Faith, an' I don't, thin! I'm afther thinkin' she's a daughter av
ould Ireland, arrah."

Jack's imitation of Susan's brogue was so funny that Patty laughed
outright.

"Perhaps the lady IS Irish," she said; "but she looks charming,
and so well-dressed."

"That's so. She IS much better dressed than when I saw her last."

"Saw her last! What do you mean?"

"Well, of course I MAY be mistaken, but do you know, she looks
like a--like a lady I saw once in the kitchen garden at 'The
Pebbles.'"

"And pray what were you doing in that kitchen garden?"

"Well, I was helping Miller look after your motor one day, and I
strolled around the house, back to the front veranda that way.
And,"--Jack's voice sank to an impressive whisper,--"there in the
midst of the cabbages and eggplants,--there stood Mrs. Hastings,--
I'm SURE it was she,--in a calico gown and checked apron!"

"Oh, Jack!" and Patty burst into laughter. "She IS our cook! Don't