"Here I be, Grandmother!" Betty came, a pale sorrowful faced little maiden.
"And crying 'ee've been, shame on 'ee my maid for to cry because that dirty old place hev been sold and who do 'ee think I have been talkin' wi'? Why bless 'ee wi' the young gentleman as hev bought her and a proper young gentleman he be, not above shaking hands wi' an old body like me and lifting of his hat to I, for all the world like I were a fine lady! Bless 'ee my maid, a fine, upstanding, smart, young gentleman he be, one of the quality too, aye of the quality, my maid, for mark 'ee the real quality are never above shaking hands wi' a poor body and talking pleasant to the likes o' we! 'Tis they upstarts and nobodys as looks down on poor folks! When 'ee sees him Betty, 'ee'll——"
"I never want to see him, never!" the girl cried, "Never, never, I hope I never shall see him!"
"Bless me what nonsense are 'ee talking now?"
"I never want to see him, for—for if I du, I shall hate him, hate him, aye, I hate him now, I du—hate him terribul bad, I du——"
"For shame and to your room wi' 'ee till you du come to your senses—I be ashamed o' you, Betty Hanson, that I be! Hate him indeed, hate him, a fine upstanding——"
"I hate him, I hate him, I hate him!" Betty said, and then once again, with defiance and anger and sorrow too in her blue eyes, "I hate him, I du, Grandmother!"
Mrs. Hanson lifted a rigid arm, she pointed at the door.
"To your room wi' 'ee, Betty Hanson," she said, "I be ashamed of 'ee, I be, to your room, you perilous bad maid!"
CHAPTER VII