"Oh, mother I'm sorry now that you had the trouble of coming, for Mrs. Goodenough went away of herself. She told the mistress that she would give no help with the children, and the master put her out; and I think I'm to stay."
"You think! and what's wrong with you now, Hetty? I thought you'd be delighted to have it settled—is it settled?"
"I hope so. Come down to the kitchen, mother, and I'll tell you all about it."
"I declare!" said Mrs. Hardy, when she had heard the story, "I don't know whether to laugh or cry. The notion! why, child, don't you see that it was a very impertinent thing for you to do? To go buying a penn'orth of cherries for the child because you fancied her mother couldn't. I wonder when you're going to have a morsel of sense—I do indeed! Well, I must find out if Mrs. Eyre is going to overlook it, for I declare I don't expect it. Where is she?"
"She'll be here in a minute, mother."
Hetty went on with her work, dropping tears into the kitchen utensils, and sighing in a heartbreaking manner; her mother watched her with some amusement. At last Mrs. Eyre came down.
"Where is Mrs. Goodenough?" said she, looking round.
"The master bid me tell you, ma'am, she's gone. She wouldn't stay even to wash up the things. He hadn't time to wait for you to come down."
Mrs. Eyre's manner became very much more cheerful.
"Oh, Mrs. Hardy, I didn't see you. Good morning."