He felt a little awkward for he knew he had no business there, and when he got to the big, vaulted kitchen, he stopped and looked round him dubiously.

The fire in the old-fashioned, wasteful range had been allowed to die down, and on the round wooden table in the middle of the room were heaped up the dinner plates and dishes.
Suddenly he noticed that the door which led into the scullery was ajar, and he heard Betty's clear, even voice saying: "When you've tidied yourself up a bit, run down and let me see how you look.

I'm afraid they're not likely to play any games this evening.

It's a real, proper dinner-party, you know, Timmy." Then he heard his godson's eager voice.

"Oh, Betty, do come too! Mrs.
Jones can do the washing-up to-morrow morning.