“I trust that is not that Pie:  the spoons are locked up, however,” said Ribby.

But there was nobody there.  Ribby opened the bottom oven door with some difficulty, and turned the pie.  There began to be a pleasing smell of baked mouse!

[Illustration:  WHERE IS THE PIE MADE OF MOUSE?]

Duchess in the meantime, had slipped out at the back door.

“It is a very odd thing that Ribby’s pie was not in the oven when I put mine in!  And I can’t find it anywhere; I have looked all over the house.  I put my pie into a nice hot oven at the top.  I could not turn any of the other handles; I think that they are all shams,” said Duchess, “but I wish I could have removed the pie made of mouse!  I cannot think what she has done with it?  I heard Ribby coming and I had to run out by the back door!”

[Illustration]

Duchess went home and brushed her beautiful black coat; and then she picked a bunch of flowers in her garden as a present for Ribby; and passed the time until the clock struck four.

Ribby—­having assured herself by careful search that there was really no one hiding in the cupboard or in the larder—­went upstairs to change her dress.

She put on a lilac silk gown, for the party, and an embroidered muslin apron and tippet.

“It is very strange,” said Ribby, “I did not think I left that drawer pulled out; has somebody been trying on my mittens?”

She came downstairs again, and made the tea, and put the teapot on the hob.  She peeped again into the bottom oven, the pie had become a lovely brown, and it was steaming hot.

[Illustration:  READY FOR THE PARTY]

She sat down before the fire to wait for the little dog.  “I am glad I used the bottom oven,” said Ribby, “the top one would certainly have been very much too hot.  I wonder why that cupboard door was open?  Can there really have been someone in the house?”

Very punctually at four o’clock, Duchess started to go to the party.  She ran so fast through the village that she was too early, and she had to wait a little while in the lane that leads down to Ribby’s house.

“I wonder if Ribby has taken my pie out of the oven yet?” said Duchess, “and whatever can have become of the other pie made of mouse?”

[Illustration]

At a quarter past four to the minute, there came a most genteel little tap-tappity.  “Is Mrs. Ribston at home?” inquired Duchess in the porch.

“Come in! and how do you do, my dear Duchess?” cried Ribby.  “I hope I see you well?”

“Quite well, I thank you, and how do you do, my dear Ribby?” said Duchess.  “I’ve brought you some flowers; what a delicious smell of pie!”

[Illustration:  DUCHESS IN THE PORCH]

“Oh, what lovely flowers!  Yes, it is mouse and bacon!”

“Do not talk about food, my dear Ribby,” said Duchess; “what a lovely white tea-cloth!...  Is it done to a turn?  Is it still in the oven?”