“I’m ill set (I find it difficult) to make thore twirls and twists,” explained Jennet. “Mun I curl ’t, or ye’ll ha’ ’t bred?” (Braided, plaited.)
“What means the jade?” demanded Gertrude with an oath.
Clare was horrified. She had heard men swear when they were in a passion, and one or two when they were not; but that a woman should deliberately preface her words with oaths was something new and shocking to her. Lady Enville’s strongest adjurations were mild little asseverations “by this fair daylight,” or words no nearer profanity. However, startled as she was, Clare came out of her corner to mediate.
“How should it like you dressed?”
“Oh! with the crisping-pins. ’Twill take as short time as any way.”
“Wi’ whatten a thingcum?” (with what sort of a thing) stared Jennet.
“I am afeared, Sister, we have no crisping-pins,” said Clare.
“No crisping-pins!” cried Gertrude, with another oath. “Verily, I might have come to Barbary! Are you well assured?”
“Be there any manner of irons, Jennet, for crisping or curling the hair?”
“Nay, Mistress Clare, we’re Christians here,” said Jennet in her coolest manner, which was very cool indeed. “We known nought about French ways, nor foreigners nother. (In Lancashire, strangers to the locality, if only from the next county, are termed foreigners.) There’s been no such gear i’ this house sin’ I come—and that’s eighteen year come Lady Day.”