They all went down but Fly, who was by this time fast asleep in Mrs.Fixfax's arms.
"I reckon the servants thought we'd been wrecked on a desert island, by the dash we made at that turkey," whispered Horace, as they returned to the housekeeper's room.
"How good you were, Horace Clifford, not to tell Mrs.Fixfax about my awful cooking." "And I didn't tell, either," said Dotty.

"But wasn't it _mizzerble_ ?" As if Mrs.Fixfax didn't know, and wasn't that very minute laughing over the "tight biscuit" and low-spirited cake!.