Just then Mrs Millett, who was a plump elderly female with a pleasant countenance and expression, appeared in the doorway, and to her Dexter appealed in turn.
Mrs Millett had been disposed to look at Dexter from the point of view suggested by Maria, who had been making unpleasant allusions to the boy’s birth and parentage, and above all to “Master’s strange goings on,” ever since Dexter’s coming. Hence, then, the old lady, who looked upon herself as queen of the kitchen, had a sharp reproof on her tongue, and was about to ask the boy why he hadn’t stopped in his own place, and rung for what he wanted. The frank happy expression on his face disarmed her, and she smiled and cut the required bread.
“Well, I never!” said Maria.
“Ah, my dear,” said Mrs Millett; “I was young once, and I didn’t like to be scolded. He isn’t such a bad-looking boy after all, only he will keep apples in his bedroom, and make it smell.”
“What’s looks!” said Maria tartly, as she gave a candlestick she was cleaning a fierce rub.
“A deal, my dear, sometimes,” said the old housekeeper. “Specially if they’re sweet ones, and that’s what yours are not now.”
Dexter was not yet armed with all he wanted, for he was off down the kitchen-garden in search of worms.
His first idea was to get a spade and dig for himself; but the stern countenance of Dan’l Copestake rose up before him, and set him wondering what would be the consequences if he were to be found turning over some bed.
On second thoughts he determined to find the gardener and ask for permission, the dread of not succeeding in his mission making him for the moment more thoughtful.
Dan’l did not need much looking for. He had caught sight of Dexter as soon as he entered the garden, and gave vent to a grunt.