"This one, ma'am, as is fetching my basket?" interrogated Mrs. Sims in her turn.
"Yes, that one ... that tall girl.... What is her name?"
"Betty Jacks, ma'am, is her name."
"Jacks?" repeated Mrs. Barnaby, a little disconcerted; "Jacks!... that won't do.... I can never call her Jacks; but for that matter, I could give her another name easy enough, to be sure.... And what is she good for?... what can she do?"
"Not over much of anything, ma'am. She was put late to me. But she can read, and iron a little, and can do plain work well enough when she chooses it."
"When she chooses it!... and she'll be sure to choose it, I suppose, when she goes to service. I want a girl to wait upon me, and to sew for me when she has nothing else to do, and I think this one will do for me very well."
"I ask your pardon, ma'am," replied Mrs. Sims, "but if I might make so bold, I would just say that for a notable, tidy, good girl, Sally Wilkins there, that one at the end of the form, is far before Betty Jacks in being likely to suit."
"What!... that little thing? Why, she is a baby, Mrs. Sims."
"She is eleven months older than Betty Jacks, ma'am, and greatly beyond her in every way."
"But I don't like the look of such a little thing. The other would do for what I want much better. Come here, Betty Jacks. Should you like to go out to service with a lady who would take care that you should always be well dressed, and let you travel about with her, and see a great deal of the world?"