"And Pattie Dale's been doing all the nursing, has she?"
"Dear me, no. She's helped; but we've had a regular nurse in the house all this while. Mr. Cragg says she's got to go next week. He says he can't afford to keep her longer. Dot is getting on all right. I believe she'd be as well as ever, if the doctor didn't keep her lying down. 'Tisn't natural for a child. She ought to be up and about. But he gives all his orders to Pattie Dale, and I'm not allowed a word. You'd think Pattie was mistress, only to hear her."
"I don't like that girl, for my part. What makes you put up with her?"
"Haven't any choice. She's got the upper hand of Mr. Cragg—twists him round her little finger. And Dot won't look at anybody else."
"Well, I wouldn't have it so, if I were you. I'd make a stand. She's got a conceited look."
"Conceited! I should think she was. There's nobody in the world that's Pattie's equal, if you believe Pattie."
"And nobody knows wherever she came from," reflected Mrs. Smithers.
Mrs. Cragg pursed up her lips with a meaning air.
"Well, you may know, but nobody else does. What is Pattie Dale? Your husband's been going about saying she wants to find a situation. What sort is she fit for, I'd like to know?"
"When Pattie's in a temper, she always says she wants to find a situation."