"Go away," said Joan in a sleepy voice. "I'm awake."
"Yes, and you'll be asleep again in a minute if you don't set up and drink yer tea. Now, Miss Joan, you don't want me to stand 'ere all the morning wasting me time with the whole 'ouse full and me wanted to 'elp."
"Then go and 'elp, and don't bother," replied Joan sleepily.
"Miss Nancy!" cried Hannah. "I know you ain't asleep. Set up and drink yer tea. Miss Nancy! Lor'! the trouble I 'ave now Miss Bird's gone, and only me to see that everything's right up 'ere and you ain't late downstairs, which you know I should be blamed and not you if you wasn't down in time."
This roused Joan, who opened her eyes again and said, "It's nothing to do with you whether we're late or not. You're always full of your own importance. I'm quite awake now and you can clear out," and she sat up in bed, and took her cup from the table between the two beds.
"Not till Miss Nancy sets up I won't," said Hannah. "I know she's awake and it's only contrariness as makes her pretend not to be."
"Nancy, do sit up and let her go," entreated Joan, "or she'll go on jabbering like a monkey for hours. My nerves won't stand it at this time of the morning."
Nancy sat up suddenly and reached for her cup. "Depart, minion!" she commanded.
"Now you won't go to sleep again after you've 'ad yer tea," said Hannah. "I shall come back in 'alf an hour to do yer 'airs, and if you ain't up and ready for me, I shall acquaint Mrs. Clinton, for reelly the trouble I 'ave in this very room every morning as sure as the sun rises, no young ladies as calls theirselves young ladies wouldn't be'ave so."
"Parse that sentence," said Nancy, and Hannah, with a toss of the head, left the room.