“The top oven bakes too quickly,” said Ribby to herself.

Ribby put on some coal and swept up the hearth.  Then she went out with a can to the well, for water to fill up the kettle.

Then she began to set the room in order, for it was the sitting-room as well as the kitchen.

When Ribby had laid the table she went out down the field to the farm, to fetch milk and butter.

When she came back, she peeped into the bottom oven; the pie looked very comfortable.

Ribby put on her shawl and bonnet and went out again with a basket, to the village shop to buy a packet of tea, a pound of lump sugar, and a pot of marmalade.

And just at the same time, Duchess came out of her house, at the other end of the village.

Ribby met Duchess half-way down the street, also carrying a basket, covered with a cloth.  They only bowed to one another; they did not speak, because they were going to have a party.

As soon as Duchess had got round the corner out of sight—­she simply ran!  Straight away to Ribby’s house!

Ribby went into the shop and bought what she required, and came out, after a pleasant gossip with Cousin Tabitha Twitchit.

Ribby went on to Timothy Baker’s and bought the muffins.  Then she went home.

There seemed to be a sort of scuffling noise in the back passage, as she was coming in at the front door.  But there was nobody there.

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!”

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 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.

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.”

Very punctually at four o’clock,
Duchess started to go to the party.

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.