making all the afternoon—and then come home to this!"
An idea suddenly darted into Nancy's brain. At first she looked aghast. Then she laughed and glanced at her watch.
"I'll do it—just for fun and a little pity. It's half-past two and Peter won't be home till four at the earliest. I'll have a good hour to do it in, and still make my escape in good time. Nobody will ever know; nobody can see me here."
Nancy went in, threw off her hat and seized a broom. The first thing she did was to give the kitchen a thorough sweeping. Then she kindled a fire, put a kettle full of water on to heat, and attacked the dishes. From the number of them she rightly concluded that Peter hadn't washed any for at least a week.
"I suppose he just uses the clean ones as long as they hold out, and then has a grand wash-up," she laughed. "I wonder where he keeps his dishtowels, if he has any."
Evidently Peter hadn't any. At least, Nancy couldn't find any. She marched boldly into the dusty sitting-room and explored the drawers of an old-fashioned sideboard, confiscating a towel she found there. As she worked she hummed a song; her steps were light and her eyes bright with excitement. Nancy was enjoying herself
