“No, but, Steenie, you might help me to get at somebody that does. One of the Lady’s women, you know. I’m sure you could, if you would.”
Steenie whistled. “Well, upon my word! You’ll not lose cakes for want of asking for. Why don’t you go to Anania?”
“You know she’d only be cross.”
“How do you know I sha’n’t be cross?” asked Stephen, knitting his brows, and pouting out his lips, till he looked formidable.
“Oh, because you never are. You’ll only laugh at me, and you won’t do that in an ugly way like some people. Now, Steenie, you will help me to get a gown for Agnes?”
“Agnes, is it? I thought you meant Flemild.”
“No, it’s Agnes; and Ermine gave up her hood to help: but Agnes wants the gown worse than Ermine does a hood. You like them, you know, Steenie.”
“Who told you that, my Lady Impertinence? Dear, dear, what pests these children are!”
“Now, Stephen, you know you don’t think any thing of the sort, and you are going to help me this minute.”
“How am I to help, I should like to know? I can’t leave my gate.”