“I want to speak to you alone, please,” said Fanny.
“You can’t,” cried Mrs. Holdfast. “Take this beggar-girl away.”
The coachman endeavoured to obey the order, but little Fanny was too quick for him. She slipped between his arms, and again stood by the side of Mrs. Holdfast.
“Ain’t you Mrs. Holdfast?” she asked, looking up into the lady’s face.
“Yes,” was the reply.
“Mrs. Grace Holdfast,” said Fanny, as bold as brass. I think it would be difficult to find her equal.
Mrs. Holdfast, as she heard this name, Grace, which Fanny spoke loudly, gave a scream, and seizing Fanny by the arm, hurried back with her into the house. There were servants standing about, but Mrs. Holdfast took no notice of them; she put her hand on Fanny’s lips, and dragged her into an empty room. Closing the door, and locking it, she bent down to Fanny and shook her roughly.
Fanny did not speak or scream, but twisted herself as soon as she could from Mrs. Holdfast’s grip, and said,
“There! You have made my wig all crooked.”