“No, I don’t; but I know something else,” replied Jill.
“Wot? My word! you’ll spill that boiling water on the tablecloth ef you don’t look out. Wot do you know, Jill?”
“That Nat and me can manage our own affairs, ef we are let,” answered Jill.
“Oh, dearie me! now you’re turning sulky. I must let Nat know as the pretty little dear has got a temper of her own. But, speakin’ serious, Jill, hadn’t we better strike that bargain while we are about it?”
“Wot bargain?”
“Me to have the best bedroom, and the run of the kitchen, for ’arf-a-crown a week. Come now, it’s only common prudence to say yes.”
Jill sat down wearily, and dropped her hands to her sides. She had supplied Susy with tea, and bread and butter, and a substantial slice of cold pork-pie, but she could not touch any food herself.
“Nat must decide,” she said. “It’s Nat’s affair, it ain’t mine. It’s for him to decide.”
“He says t’other way,” said Susy, with a pout. “I bothered him this morning for a good while, and he said it was for you to say. Fact is, Jill, you can turn Nat round your little finger. He’ll do nothing agen you, ef it was ever so little.”
“Well, well, I’ll let you know presently,” said Jill. “I has a headache to-night, and I am tired.”