She had grown very weary, and began to long for a floor on which
she might stretch herself; there was not a sound in the house but
the ticking of a clock somewhere; and she was now wondering
whether everybody had gone to bed, when she heard a step
approaching, and presently Castle, who was the only man at home,
stood up before her, and, with the ease of perfect self-
satisfaction, and as if there was nothing in the neglect of her
but the custom of the house to cool people well in the hall
before admitting them to its penetralia, said, "Step this way--
miss"; the last word added after a pause of pretended hesitation,
for the man had taken his cue from the housekeeper.
Mary rose, and followed him to the basement story, into a
comfortable room, where sat Mrs. Perkin, embroidering large
sunflowers on a piece of coarse stuff. She was _artistic_,
and despised the whole style of the house.
"You may sit down," she said, and pointed to a chair near the
door.
Mary, not a little amused, for all her discomfort, did as she was
permitted, and awaited what should come next.
"What part of the country are you from?" asked Mrs. Perkin, with
her usual diagonal upward toss of the chin, but without lifting
her eyes from her work.
"From Testbridge," answered Mary.
"The servants in this house are in the habit of saying _ma'am_
to their superiors: it is required of them," remarked Mrs.
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