“Miss Melea has no particular appetite for such bread,” observed Mrs. Martin. “Ladies, this is the food Mrs. Cavendish provides for her servants,—aye, and for the children too, as long as they will eat it. The grand Mrs. Cavendish, ladies; the great banker’s lady.”
“There must be some mistake,” said Fanny, quietly. “It may happen——”
“There lies the bread, Miss Berkeley; and my husband and I saw Rhoda take it out of her pocket. Where else she could get such bread, perhaps you can tell us, ma’am.”
“I do not mean to tax Rhoda with falsehood. I mean that it is very possible that, by bad management, a loaf or two may have been kept too long——”
“But just look at the original quality, ma’am.” And the farmer and his wife spoke alternately.
“You should see the red herrings they dine off five days in the week.”
“And the bone pies the other two.”
“Sacks of bad potatoes are bought for the servants.”
“The nursemaid and baby sleep underground, with a brick floor.”
“The maids are to have no fire after the dinner is cooked in winter, any more than in summer.”