'Miss Horatia! Considering he's got a wife and family!' protested Nancy. But she quoted Sykes no more, which was just what Horatia wanted and expected.
'Now, Nanny, I'm quite all right, so you can get out my white muslin and blue ribbon,' she said.
'Not that white muslin, miss! You've worn it three times, and it is so plain compared with Miss Clay's,' objected the woman.
'So am I, so it's no good my trying to dress like her, and it's no use your getting angry about it, and arguing, because you know she's beautiful and I'm plain. And what's funnier still, I don't envy her a bit—oh, I don't mean her wealth, but I mean her face and figure—for she isn't a bit happy, and she doesn't enjoy life, and I do most awfully.'
'Because you try to make other people enjoy it, and you know the way to win people's hearts. Why, the way you've won Mr Clay's'—— Here Nancy paused.
'As Sykes says,' added Horatia slyly.
'Well, Miss Horatia, you will have your joke; and if I was going to say that it's no wonder, seeing that I have to sit at his right hand, as the place of honour, at the servants' hall dinner. And, oh, miss, if you did but see our table! Well, we live well at his Grace's; but here! You never saw such food—seven and eight courses we have, and fruit and wines. I'm sure I don't know how much they cost.'
'You'll be wanting to stay up here, Nanny; you will never be contented with our plain food after all these luxuries,' suggested Horatia.
Nancy gave a scornful sniff. 'I suppose that is a joke, Miss Horatia; but it's a poor one. For if it were this house or the Union I'd not hesitate between them.'
'Is that a joke, or do you expect me to believe you'd rather live in the workhouse than this place?' inquired Horatia.