“What can I do for you?” said Aneta now, in a kind tone.
Tildy dropped an awkward curtsy. “I’ve come, miss,” she said, “to see our Miss Maggie.”
“Miss Howland is out,” said Aneta.
“Oh, miss!” replied Tildy, the corners of her mouth beginning to droop, “that’s crool ’ard on me. Do you think, 147 miss, if I may make so bold as to inquire, that Miss Maggie ’ll be in soon?”
“I do not think so,” replied Aneta; “but I can convey any message you like to her, if you will trust me.”
“Oh miss,” said Tildy, worshipping Aneta on the spot, “who wouldn’t trust one like you?”
“Well, what is it? What can I do for you?”
“I was maid, miss—maid-of-all-work—at Shepherd’s Bush when Miss Maggie and ’er ma used to live there; and when Mrs. ’Owland married Martin the grocer they was that kind they took me to live at Laburnum Villa. It’s a very rich and comfortable ’ouse, miss; and the way they two goes on is most excitin’. It’s joke, joke, and play, play, from morn till night—that’s the ma and steppa of Miss Maggie. I’ve brought a letter from Mrs. Martin to be delivered straight to Miss Maggie.”
“I can give it to her,” said Aneta in her calm voice.
“You’ll per’aps mention, miss,” said Tildy, taking the letter from her pocket, “as I called, and as I love our dear Miss Maggie as much as I ever did. You’ll per’aps say, miss, with my dutiful respects, that my ’eart is ’ers, and always will be.”