affairs claimed her, but she paused long enough to whisper in George Washington's ear:
"You may go now, Peter. You 've done very nicely. Slip out through the butler's pantry where no one will see you. Change into your own clothes and help them in the kitchen about serving supper—but don't on any account step into the front part of the house again to-night."
"Yes, ma'am," said Peter, meekly.
He found the entrance to the butler's pantry blocked, and he dived into the empty conservatory, intending to pass thence to the veranda, and so get around to the kitchen the outside way. But as he reached the veranda door he ran face to face into Mrs. Booth-Higby. Peter quickly backed into a fern-hung nook to let her pass. The light was dim, but his costume was distinctive; after a moment of hesitating scrutiny she bore down upon him.
"Oh, it's George Washington!—Lord Kiscadden, I should say. I see by the programme
