Once more Mrs. Chaffey quelled her with a glance and proceeded:—
“‘An’ be he wantin’ you to settle wi’ en?’ I axed the maid straight-out.
“She hangs her head, an’ begins a-playin’ wi’ the buttons of her bodice.
“‘He did say so,’ she says, very low; ‘he did ax I to walk wi’ en an’ think it over—he be gettin’ good wage,’ she says, lookin’ up at me. ‘He says he’ll do all what he can for me—I think I could like en very well—I d’ ’low he be a good man.’”
Mrs. Cross clicked her tongue and shook her head with an air of disapproval.
“Yes, indeed, my dear,” cried Mrs. Chaffey warmly, “that was my own opinion. My dooty did stare I in the face.”
“‘Put that there notion out of your head, Jenny,’ I says to her, very firm, ‘for I’ll never hear on’t—never!’ I says. ‘If you was a-thinkin’ o’ meetin’ that idle good-for-nothin’ fellow this mornin’, you may give up the notion. Take off your hat,’ I says, ‘an’ put by that jacket of yours. Outside this house you don’t set foot this day. You bide at home,’ I says.”
Mrs. Cross looked dubious at first, but catching the other’s severe eye, shook her head once more in an impersonal way, and folded her arms with an appearance of great unconcern.
“The way that maid did go on,” pursued Mrs. Chaffey, “was scandalous, quite scandalous, I do assure ’ee. She cried an’ sobbed, and acskally tried for to dodge round to the door, but I were too quick for her. I nipped out first, and turned the key in the lock.
“Well, if you’ll believe me, jist about dinner-time, who should come walkin’ up to the house as bold as brass, but my gentleman himself, an’ before I could shut door in’s face if that little bold hussy didn’t call out to en from the window: ‘I’m locked in, Mr. Connor, I’m locked in!’