“Now what I would suggest,” Steptoe went on, craftily, “is that we all go back to the kitchen and talk it over quiet like. What we decide to do we can tell madam lyter.”
For consent or refusal Jane and Nettie looked to Mary Ann, whose attitude was that of rejecting parley. She might, indeed, have rejected it, had not Letty, bowing her head on the arms she rested on the table, begun to cry bitterly.
It was then that you saw Mrs. Courage at her best. The gesture with which she swept her subordinates back into the hall was that of the supremacy of will.
“It shan’t be said as I crush,” she declared, nobly, directing Steptoe’s attention to the weeping girl. “Where there’s penitence I pity. God grant as them tears may gush out of an aichin’ ’eart.”
Chapter IX
By the time Letty was drying her eyes, her heart somewhat eased, Steptoe had come back. He came back with a smile. Something had evidently pleased him.
“So that’s all over. Madam won’t be bothered with other people’s cat-nasty old servants after to-dye.”
She felt a new access of alarm. “But they’re not goin’ away on account o’ me? Don’t let ’em do it. Lemme go instead. Oh, mister, I can’t stay here, where everything’s so different from what I’m used to.”