The book was put down, and the angry face of Betty appeared to view.
“Then I fear I must trouble you to resign the one you yourself are using. I must have a light to see my way to my bedroom.”
“There ain’t no candles. We don’t have ’em in summer. This one I bought with my own money, and I don’t give it up to nobody, laidy or no laidy.”
“Am I addressing the cook?”
“You are, ma’am. And I may as well say I am cook and housemaid and parlor-maid and kitchen-maid and scullery-maid all in one; and I does the laundry, too, whenever it’s done at all. You may gather from my words, ma’am, that I have a deal to do, so I’ll thank you to walk out of my kitchen; for if I am resting after my day of hard work, I have a right to rest, and my own candle shall light me, and my own book shall amuse me. So have the goodness to go, ma’am, and at once.”
“I will go,” replied Miss Tredgold very quietly, “exactly when I please, and not a moment before. I wish to say now that I require breakfast to be on the table at nine o’clock, and there must be plenty of good food. Do you mean to say that you have not got food in the house? You can, I presume, send out for it. Here is a half-sovereign. Spend it in what is necessary in order to provide an abundant meal on the table to-morrow morning for the use of Mr. Dale, myself, and my nieces.”
What Betty would have said had there been no half-sovereign forthcoming history will never relate. But half-sovereigns were very few and very precious at The Dales. It was almost impossible to get any money out of Mr. Dale; he did not seem to know that there was such a thing as money. If it was put into his hand by any chance, he spent it on books. Betty’s wages were terribly in arrears. She wanted her wages, but she was too generous, with all her faults, to press for them. But, all the same, the touch of the gold in her hand was distinctly soothing, and Miss Tredgold immediately rose in her estimation. A lady who produced at will golden half-sovereigns, and who was reckless enough to declare that one of these treasures might be spent on a single meal, was surely not a person to be sniffed at. Betty therefore stumbled to her feet.
“I beg your pardon, I’m sure, ma’am; and it’s badly we does want some things here. I’ll get what I can, although the notice is short, and the dook’s nuptials, so to speak, at the door.”
“What!” said Miss Tredgold.
“I beg your pardon again, ma’am, but my head aches and I’m a bit confused. I’m reading a most wonderful account of the wedding of the Dook of Mauleverer-Wolverhampton.”