“To me?”
“Yes; this bairn Anne, Mrs. Ross, as you see, has been misbehaving herself. My own gray cheek, withered as it is, has stronger health upon it than is on her young one. I have a doctor of physic among my serving woman; I see no reason why I should not undertake to work cures as well as my neighbors—send her with me—I will bring her back free of her trouble.”
“Oh, I beg you will not refer to me,” said Mrs. Ross, angrily. “Anne is quite able to judge for herself.”
“I beg your pardon, Madam. I say this bairn Anne has no call to judge for herself. Is it your pleasure that I should try my skill? I came to make my petition to you, and not to Anne.”
“She is an excessively unreasonable girl,” said Mrs. Ross, tossing her head; “if you know how to manage her, it is more than I do. I assure you, Mrs. Catherine, Anne’s conduct to me is of the most undutiful kind. She is a very foolish, unreasonable girl.”
Poor Anne had been laboring these three or four weeks to please her stepmother, as assiduously as any fagged governess or sempstress in the land. The honorable scars of the needle had furrowed her finger; she had been laboring almost as hardly, and to much better purpose than the greater portion of those “needlewomen, distressed or otherways,” whose miserable work done for miserable wages attracts so much sympathy and benevolent exertion in these days. She was somewhat astonished at the undeserved accusation. If she did wander for long miles along the course of the Oran, it was in the dewy morning, before Mrs. Ross had left her room. If she did brood over her secret hope and sorrow, it was when Mrs. Ross was sullen or asleep. She said nothing in self-defence, but felt the injustice keenly, notwithstanding.
“That is what I am saying,” said Mrs. Catherine. “She has been misbehaving herself, and we have noticed her pining away, in silence. So far as I can see, it is high time to take note of it now; therefore my petition is, that you suffer her to go with me. It is not my wont to pass over ill-doing; let me have the guiding of her for a while.”
“I think you ought to take advantage of Mrs. Catherine’s invitation, Anne,” said Lewis. “You do not look well.”
Mrs. Ross tossed her head in silence.
“Truly, Anne,” said Mrs. Catherine, “I have worn out of the way of asking favors; maybe it is want of use that makes me prosper so ill. Am I to get your daughter, Mrs. Ross for company on my travel, or am I not? I must pray you to let me have your answer.”