"No, I don't suppose there is. I just thought you might happen to be, that's all."
The kitchen-maid sat down a minute, in a tired, ungirt position, and looked over at the parlor-maid with good-natured young eyes grown a trifle speculative. The latter let her glance wander over the day's newspaper, brought down-stairs until inquired for.
"Tell you what I'd like to do!" exclaimed the kitchen-maid.
"What'd you like to do, Sally?"
"That's to come back again after I've been home for just a minute."
The parlor-maid looked up, unable altogether to conceal her interest. The house was very quiet. Through the clock-ticks, at perfectly regular intervals, came the muffled sound of Jetty's disconsolate yaps. Neither of the girls appeared to hear them.
"You don't mean just to oblige, do you, Sally?"
"Well, I'd do it in a minute for nothing else beside, but that ain't quite all I was thinking of just this once. Miss Catherine"—she hesitated, then, enthusiastically—"have you seen 'em up-stairs? the whole hundred of 'em laid out off Mrs. Darling's bedroom? I saw 'em when Mrs. Bonnet she sent me up for the lamps to clean. Law! Wouldn't any child like to see a sight like that! There's a little girl in my tenement, she'd just go crazy. Do you think there'd be any harm in it if I was to bring her over and let her get one peep? She's as clean a child as ever you saw. She comes of dreadful poor folks, but just as respectable! She never seen anything like it in her life. Law, what would I have done when I was a young one if I'd seen that? I'd thought I was dead and gone to heaven. I say, Miss Catherine, d' you think any one would mind?"
"How'll they know?" said Miss Catherine, callously. "Look here, Sally; you go along just as fast as you can and fetch your young one. And when you've got back, perhaps I'll step out a minute, two or three doors up street, and you can answer the bell while I'm gone. Now hurry into your things. I'll give you your car fare."