"How old are you, my dear?" was the unsatisfactory reply.
"And pray what's that to you?... But come now, do tell me, willy', what was it missus told me to do?"
"To go see after her bed, my dear, and all that, and unpack her nightcap, I suppose."
"Well, then, give me a candle,—that's a good man.... But where is her bed, though?"
"You bean't quite hatched yet, my gay maypole, but you'll do well enough some of these day.... Here, Susan! shew this young waiting-maid a bed-room for two ladies—and one for yourself too, I suppose, my dear. I shouldn't wonder, Susan, if it was possible the grand lady up stairs may pay less than a duchess; but take my word for it she'll blow you sky high, if you don't serve her as if you thought she was one."
"How did she come?" snappishly inquired the chamber-maid.
"By the Royal Regulator," answered the waiter. "But inside, Susan, inside, you know, and with her lady's-maid here to wait upon her; so mind what you're about, I tell you."
"Come this way, young woman, if you please," said the experienced official, who was not to be bullied out of a first-floor room by the report of duchess-like airs, or the sight of a lanky child for a waiting-maid. So Betty was made to mount to a proper stage-coach elevation.
Mrs. Barnaby, however, got her tea, and her toast, and her muffins, greatly to her satisfaction, even though the master of the establishment knew nothing about it; and though she did make Agnes's slender arm pay for the second flight of stairs, in order to prove how very little used she was to such fatigue, she was, on the whole, well pleased with her room when she reached it, well pleased with her bed, well pleased with her breakfast, and ready to set off as soon as it was over to look out for lodgings and adventures.