“Grace, humph! Why didn’t she have a decent name?”
“You can call her anything you like,” said the deacon.
“Little girl, you must behave well,” said Deacon Pinkerton, by way of parting admonition. “The town expects it. I expect it. You must never cease to be grateful for the good home which it provides you free of expense.”
Grace did not reply. Looking in the face of her future task-mistress was scarcely calculated to awaken a very deep feeling of gratitude.
“Now,” said Mrs. Chase, addressing her new boarder, “just take off your things, Betsy, and make yourself useful.”
“My name isn’t Betsy, ma’am.”
“It isn’t, isn’t it?”
“No; it is Grace.”
“You don’t say so! I’ll tell you one thing, I shan’t allow anybody to contradict me here, and your name’s got to be Betsy while you’re in this house. Now take off your things and hang them up on that peg. I’m going to set you right to work.”
“Yes, ma’am,” said Grace, alarmed.