“‘A surgeon—abroad,’ I faltered.
“‘Ho! That’s better; and perhaps he’ll settle there altogether without you.’
“I looked at her indignantly, and she laughed.
“‘Ah! I know, my good girl. I haven’t lived to eight-and-forty for nothing. How old are you?’
“‘Twenty,’ I said, shivering, for her rough way repelled me, and I longed to bring the interview to an end.
“‘Why, the girl’s cold,’ she said roughly. ‘H’m, twenty! Here, go up to the fire, and have a good warm; it’s dreadful weather. There, pull off your bonnet and jacket. Put them on that chair, and go closer to the fire; I’ve a deal to say to you yet, for I’m not going to engage another young person and have to change directly.’
“I obeyed her, trembling the while, for I was very weak; and she went on asking me questions and making comments.
“‘I don’t like your appearance at all: you look pale and unhealthy. Not a bit like a girl from the country.’
“‘I’m very sorry,’ I said; ‘but indeed, ma’am, I have excellent health.’
“‘Then your face tells stories about you. You play, of course?’