"Yes, m'am," said 'Tilda Jane, wearily.
"How's Mis' Lucas?"
'Tilda Jane paused to gaze out the open door. Why did not the woman shut it? And why, when it was so pure and clean without, did she not feel ashamed to keep so dull and untidy a house? If it were summer-time, and the ground were brown and green, this dun-coloured room would not be so bad, but now—the contrast made her sick.
"How's Mis' Lucas?" repeated her hostess, in a dull voice.
"I don't know," replied 'Tilda Jane.
Mrs. Folcutt poised herself on her broom and with rustic deliberation weighed the statement just made. Then she said, "She ain't gone away?"
"I dunno," said 'Tilda Jane, "I never see her in my life."
Here was a puzzle, and Mrs. Folcutt pondered over it in silence, until the draught of chilly air made her remember to close the door.
"Are we to start soon?" inquired 'Tilda Jane, after a time.