From her slumbers she was awoke by a vigorous shake, given by no gentle hand. Pet started up, rubbed her eyes, and beheld Miss Priscilla, by the light of a lamp she carried, bending over her.
“I’m a-going to bed, Miss Lawless,” said Miss Priscilla, grimly; “hand hunless you intends staying all night—which I shouldn’t be hany surprised at hif you was—hit’s time you was a-going ’ome.”
“Why, how late is it?” exclaimed Pet, jumping to her feet.
“Height o’clock, hand as dark as a wolf’s mouth, hat that.”
“My stars! And isn’t tea ready yet, Miss Priscilla?”
“I’ve ’ad my tea a’ hour ago,” said Miss Priscilla, with a grim sort of smile. “You was so sound hasleep I didn’t care about wakening hof you, not to speak hof aveing heat so much for your dinner, I didn’t think you’d care for hany tea. ’Ere’s your things, Miss Pet, and your ’oss is at the door; but you can stay hall night, hif you like.”
“I won’t stay all night! I’ll never come here again—yes I will too! I’ll come every single day—see if I don’t,” exclaimed Pet, bouncing across the room, and giving her hat a slap on her head. “I know you don’t want me, and I’ll just come! If you was to our house, do you think I’d pack you off without any tea? No, I wouldn’t if I had to boil the tea-leaves we used the last time for it! It just shows the sort of folks Englishers are, and I wish there wasn’t one in the world—I just do; and I don’t care who hears me saying it. I’m a-going, Miss Priscilla, and I vow to Sam! I’ll be back to-morrow, and the next day, and the next—see if I don’t!”
And while scolding furiously, and flinging things about in a manner perfectly awful to so neat a housekeeper as the ancient spinster, Miss Petronilla had managed to dress herself and descend the stairs, while Miss Priscilla, grim as a cast-iron statue, stood at the head, holding the light. Pet flounced out of the hall, giving the door a terrific bang behind her, and stepped out into the night.
By the light that streamed from the glass top of the door, Pet saw Cupid holding her pony. Springing lightly on his back, she gathered up the reins, and paused a moment before starting to look around.
The night was pitch dark, still, and sultry. Not a breath of air moved, not a leaf rustled; but from the inky pall of deepest gloom overhead, short, fitful flashes of lightning at intervals blazed. A storm was at hand, and would soon burst.