“There,” said she, “I guess you're safe for the present.”
“Ain't you ever going to carry me back?” asked Ida, wishing to know the worst.
“Some years hence,” said the woman, coolly. “We want you here for the present. Besides, you're not sure that they want to see you back again.”
“Not glad to see me?”
“No; how do you know but your father and mother sent you off on purpose? They've been troubled with you long enough, and now they've bound you apprentice to me till you're eighteen.”
“It's a lie,” said Ida, firmly. “They didn't send me off, and you're a wicked woman to keep me here.”
“Hoity-toity!” said the woman, pausing and looking menacingly at the child. “Have you anything more to say before I whip you?”
“Yes,” said Ida, goaded to desperation; “I shall complain of you to the police, and they will put you in jail, and send me home. That is what I will do.”
The nurse seized Ida by the arm, and striding with her to the closet already spoken of, unlocked it, and rudely pushing her in, locked the door after her.
“She's a spunky 'un,” remarked Dick, taking the pipe from his mouth.