Kate Flanigan gave a grunt of disgust at the brutality of the driver.
"I gave the landlord half the money the policemen gave me. I owed it for the rint. Then I set out to hunt work. Ivery day I walked and walked and ivery day I carried the baby, for where could I leave her? Nobody wanted a girl who wasn't trained to do anything, and even if I had been able to do something well they wanted no baby. There's no room for babies when you have to work," she said bitterly.
"I want you to feel that you are safe here, you and Sheila," said Mrs. Emerson gently. "Mrs. Morton and Mrs. Smith and I have been talking it over with Kate, and this is what we've planned, provided you agree."
Moya gathered up her baby jealously in her lap.
"It will keep you and Sheila together," said Mrs. Emerson quickly, noticing her gesture, and smiling approvingly as Moya at once let the child slide off her lap on to the floor where she sat contentedly playing with some of the pods of the peas that had fallen from the pan.
"Perhaps Kate has told you that we are planning to have some women and children who need country air come out from New York this summer and live in a farmhouse that we have on the place here."
Moya nodded. "She did."
"We need a cook. We are going to give them simple food, but nourishing and well cooked."
"If it's me you're thinking of for the cooking, ma'am, I'm a poor cook beyond potaties and stew."
"You never were taught to cook?"