"I know now where he learns it," retorted the mistress, with persistent and angry injustice.
Glory's face blazed up, and she took an involuntary step to the woman's side at the warrantless accusation.
"You don't mean that, mum, and you'd oughter take it back," said she, excited beyond all fear and habit of submission.
Mrs. Grubbling raised her hand passionately, and struck the girl upon the cheek.
"I mean that, then, for your impudence! Don't answer me up again!"
"No, mum," said Glory, in a low, strange tone; quite white now, except where the vindictive fingers had left their crimson streaks. And she went off out of the room without another word.
Over the knife board she revolved her wrongs, and sharpened at length the keen edge of desperate resolution.
"Please, mum," said she, in the old form of address, but with quite a new manner, that, in the little dependant of less than fifteen, startled the hard mistress, "I ain't noways bound to you, am I?"
She propounded her question, stopping short in her return toward the china closet through the sitting room.
"Bound? What do you mean?" parried Mrs. Grubbling, dimly foreshadowing to herself what it would be if Glory should break loose, and go.