"Would you please tell me where to find the second house-maid,"
said Mary. "Mrs. Perkin has sent me to her room."
"Why don't Mrs. Perkin show you the way, then?" returned the
woman. "There ain't nobody else in the house as I knows on fit to
send to the top o' them stairs with you. A nice way Jemim' 'ill
be in when _she_ comes 'ome, to find a stranger in her
room!"
The same instant, however, the woman bethought herself that, if
what she had said in her haste were reported, it would be as much
as her place was worth; and at once thereupon she assumed a more
complaisant tone. Casting a look at her saucepans, as if to warn
them concerning their behavior in her absence, she turned again
to Mary, saying:
"I believe I better show you the way myself. It's easier to take
you than find a girl to do it. Them hussies is never where they
oughto be! _You_ follow _me_."
She led the way along two passages, and up a back staircase of
stone--up and up, till Mary, unused to such heights, began to be
aware of knees. Plainly at last in the regions of the roof, she
thought her hill Difficulty surmounted, but the cook turned a
sharp corner, and Mary following found herself once more at the
foot of a stair--very narrow and steep, leading up to one of
those old-fashioned roof-turrets which had begun to appear in the
new houses of that part of London.
"Are you taking me to the clouds, cook?" she said, willing to be
cheerful, and to acknowledge her obligation for laborious
guidance.
Pages:
292
293
294
295
296
297
298
299
300
301
302
303
304
305
306
307
308
309
310
311
312
313
314
315
316