“Yis, miss.”
“You know that my name is Mrs. Forster, do you not?”
“Mrs. Forster. Yis, miss.”
Marian made no further attempt to get miss changed to maam; and Eliza left the room. As she crossed the landing, she was called by someone on the same floor. Marian started at the sound. It was a woman’s voice, disagreeably husky: a voice she felt sure she had heard before, and yet one that was not familiar to her.
“Eliza. Eli-za!” Marian shuddered.
“Yis, yis,” said Eliza, impatiently, opening a door.
“Come here, alanna,” said the voice, with mock fondness. The door was then closed, and Marian could hear the murmur of the conversation which followed. It was still proceeding when Mrs. Myers came in.
“I didnt ought to have left you to find your way up here alone, Mrs. Forster,” she said; “but I do have such worry sometimes that I’m bound to leave either one thing or another undone.”
“It does not matter at all, Mrs. Myers. Your servant has been very attentive to me.”
“The hired girl? She’s smart, she is—does everything right slick away. The only trouble is to keep her out of that room. She’s in there now. Unless I am always after her, she is slipping out on errands, pawning and buying drink for that unfortunate young creature.”