"You see," explained Sabina, "I can't go overstairs."
"I wonder 'ow Leadville'll like sleepin' on the ground floor?"
"Well, he must like it or lump it." She spoke with the confidence of one whose marriage had been a success. "We'll get the room to rights for yer."
"And Isolda, I don't want to keep on Mrs. Bate, nor I don't want her Jenifer nor her Janey."
"'Ow'll 'ee manage then?"
"I want some one of my own flesh and blood. I should love to 'av one of your li'l maids. Why couldn't I 'av Gray? We've always 'greed like chickens."
"Well, I don't know I'm sure." Mrs. Tom had been expecting this, she had even schemed for it. She had five daughters, pretty maidens all of them, and Gray was the eldest. What more suitable than that she should fill a daughter's place at Wastralls? Nevertheless it would not be wise to jump at the offer. "She's young to go from 'ome."
"Wastralls is only next door and she'll be all right with me."
"An' 'as you've none of yer own," agreed Mrs. Tom, "Gray's the nearest."
Whatever Sabina's intentions, however, she would not promise to make the girl her heir. "'Twill be for the maid's good," she said vaguely.