She had reached this part of her soliloquy when old Meg entered the tent.
“Here, Zula, is work for you,” she said in a cross voice; “now see that you keep to it till your time is up.”
Zula took the basket, and, wiping away her tears, began her work.
“You’ll learn to hurry around next time, won’t you?”
Zula made no reply.
“Oh, you need not pout so; you will find out who is master here. Come, you sulky thing, go to work as though you meant to do something. Why don’t you talk?”
“I ain’t got nothin’ to say,” said Zula.
“Well, I’ll give you something to say, and you’ll be glad enough to say it, too, when you get a chance. Do you understand?”
“Yes,” she said, looking down again, with eyes fast filling with tears.