“Certainly, with your permission.”
“You know very well that my permission is nothing,” sobbed she.
“And I don’t wonder, you poor spiritless thing!” I thought to myself. But I was very sorry for her; and I asked if she would like to have my room for the night, to be near her child.
But she was frightened at the idea; so I wrapped the child up well in a blanket, thinking I would put her in my own bed until her little one could be taken upstairs. I was rather frightened myself at the thought of giving such an order to the awful Sarah, and, just as I was debating with myself whether she would be likely to obey it, she entered the room. I attacked her at once.
“Sarah, I want you to bring Miss Haidee’s bed up into my room, if you please. This is too cold for her. Jane can help you, if it is too heavy.”
She seemed not to be quite sure whether to be insolent or submissive. She decided for the former.
“And by what authority, miss, do you give orders for moving about the furniture?”
“Your mistress wishes it to be done.”
“My mistress! And pray who is that, miss?”
“You know—Mrs. Rayner.”