"This is dreadful!" said Hesper. "What can the servants be about!"
"And, please, may I have a little fire?" begged Mary.
"Certainly," replied Hesper, knitting her brows with a look of slight anguish. "Is it possible you have been sitting all day without one? Why did you not ring the bell?" She took one of her hands. "You are frozen!" she said.
"Oh, no!" answered Mary; "I am far from that. You see nobody knows yet what to do with me.—You hardly know yourself," she added, with a merry look. "But, if you wouldn't mind telling Mrs. Perkin where you wish me to have my meals, that would put it all right, I think."
"Very well," said Hesper, in a tone that for her was sharp. "Will you ring the bell?"
She sent for the housekeeper, who presently appeared—lank and tall, with her head on one side like a lamp-post in distress, but calm and prepared—a dumb fortress, with a live garrison.
"I wish you, Mrs. Perkin, to arrange with Miss Marston about her meals."
"Yes, ma'am," answered Mrs. Perkin, with sedatest utterance.
"Mrs. Perkin," said Mary, "I don't want to be troublesome; tell me what will suit you best."
But Mrs. Perkin did not even look at her; standing straight as a rush, she kept her eyes on her mistress.