“Couldst cleanse out a pan an’ thou wert set about it?”
“Ay,” said Maude, under her breath.
“And couldst run of a message?”
“Ay.”
“And couldst do as folk bid thee?”
“Ay.”
But each time the child’s voice grew fainter.
“Sister Oliva, I will essay the little maid, by your leave.”
“And with my very good will, friend Ursula.”
“Me counteth I shall make the best cook of her in all Herts. What sayest, maid?—wilt of thy good will be a cook?”