“I think it very funny that a Lunnon gentleman should be pushing his nose in a farmer’s kitchen,” observed the maid. “I dunno what to mek on it,” and with these words she darted out of the apartment.
“That girl is a great deal too forward—takes too many liberties to my thinking,” said Fortescue.
“She will speak her mind,” returned the farmer’s wife. “But you know she is privileged—she has been here for so many years that she looks upon herself as one of the family.”
Mr. Fortescue smiled and shrugged his shoulders, and deemed it best under the circumstances to beat a hasty retreat. Nodding to Mrs. Ashbrook he left the kitchen.
“I wish you’d not be so ready with your tongue before strangers,” said the farmer’s wife to her servant. “You see what you’ve done.”
“No, I don’t.”
“Why, you’ve offended Mr. Fortescue.”
“Oh, is that all?” cried the girl with an impudent toss of her head. “It’s a good job if he is offended.”
“Of that I am the best judge.”
“Well, I doan’t care for’un, and never shall. I could take my Bible oath that he be a false man.”