"'Ow's missis, please, sir?" inquired Prissy anxiously.
"Much better this morning, thank you."
"And the babby, sir?"
"Also better and stronger, Prissy." Prissy jumped up and down in delight. "I was coming to see you. Do you think your aunt would let you come to us as a regular servant, to live and eat and sleep in the house."
This vision of happiness almost took Prissy's breath away, but she managed to reply, "If yer'd make it worth 'er while she would, Mr. Cohen. She's allus telling me I'm taking the bread out of 'er mouth, and aint worth my salt. Oh, Mr. Cohen, will yer take me, will yer? I don't care where I sleep, I don't care wot yer give me to eat, I'll work for yer day and night, I will! Aunty makes my life a misery, she does, and I've lost Wictoria Rejiner, sir. She's got another nuss, and I aint got nobody to care for now. Aunty sed this morning I was a reg'lar pest, and she wished she could sell me at so much a pound."
"You don't weigh a great deal," said Aaron, gazing at Prissy in pity, and then, with a touch of his old humor, "How much a pound do you think she would take?"
"Come and arks 'er, Mr. Cohen, come and arks 'er," cried Prissy, running before Aaron, and looking back imploringly at him.
He and Mr. Moss followed the girl into the presence of Prissy's aunt, and although he did not buy Prissy by the pound weight, he made a bargain with the woman, and by the outlay of five shillings secured the girl's permanent services, it being understood that she was not to take her niece away without Prissy's consent. As they walked back to Aaron's house he spoke to Prissy about wages, but the girl, who felt as if heaven's gates had opened for her to enter, interrupted him by saying:
"Don't talk about wages, sir, please don't. I don't want no wages. Give me a frock and a bone, and I'll work the skin off my fingers for yer, I will!"
Extravagant as were her professions, never was a poor girl more in earnest than Prissy.