“Oh, if you will only let me go,” said Ida, gathering hope from this remark, “I'll do anything you say.”
“Do you mean this, or do you only say it for the sake of getting away?”
“Oh, I mean just what I say. Dear, good Mrs. Hardwick, just tell me what I am to do, and I will obey you cheerfully.”
“Very well,” said Peg, “only you needn't try to get anything out of me by calling me dear, good Mrs. Hardwick. In the first place, you don't care a cent about me. In the second place, I am not good; and finally, my name isn't Mrs. Hardwick, except in New York.”
“What is it, then?” asked Ida.
“It's just Peg, no more and no less. You may call me Aunt Peg.”
“I would rather call you Mrs. Hardwick.”
“Then you'll have a good many years to call me so. You'd better do as I tell you if you want any favors. Now what do you say?”
“Yes, Aunt Peg,” said Ida, with a strong effort to conceal her repugnance.
“That's well. Now the first thing to do, is to stay here for the present.”