Thus admonished, Maggie did move off with a dubious look on her face in the direction of the store-room.
“She don’t know nothing, poor dear,” she said to herself; “she aims high—she’s eat up with ambition, but she don’t know nothing. It’s lucky we in the ’all is to have the cold bacon. I don’t know how to make a butter-and-egg hot cake—oh, my word, a fine scolding Mrs. Power will give us when she comes back.”
Here Maggie approached the store-room door. Then she uttered a loud and piercing exclamation and flew back to Polly.
“She’s gone and done us, Miss Polly,” she exclaimed. “She’s gone and done us! Cook’s off, and the key of the store-room in her pocket. There’s nothing for breakfast, Miss Polly—no eggs, no butter, no marmalade, no sugar, no nothing.”
Poor Polly’s rosy, little face turned white.
“It can’t be true,” she said. And she flew down the passage to the store-room herself. Alas! only to peep through the key-hole, for the inhospitable door was firmly locked, and nowhere could the key be discovered.