The cook, whose name was Horniman, condescended to signify her willingness to provide this dinner, and Mrs. Martin went up to the drawing-room.
“You had better light a fire here, Matilda,” she said. “It’s going to be a very cold day.”
“I’d a sight rayther you called me Tildy, mum. It seems like as though a lump o’ ice got on my ’eart when you say Mat-tilda.”
“‘Matilda’ is more refined and suitable,” said Mrs. Martin with dignity.
“Oh yes, ’um—’course, ’um. When ’ull Miss Maggie be comin’ to see us, ’um?”
“Not before Christmas, you silly girl. Miss Maggie is at school.”
“So I ’ave ’eard,” said Matilda. “You ’aven’t give me no ’olidays, ’um, sence I come to yer; and it were understood, sure-ly, that I were to ’ave my day out once a month.”
“You shall go out to-morrow, Matilda. I haven’t the slightest wish to keep you indoors against your will.”
“To-morrer’s cook’s day, ’um.”