Ruth’s head was heroically high. The late Mr. Mossop had had his faults, but he had not kept his finger on electric-bell buttons till she came.
“No doubt there’s them as would give better satisfaction, m’m,” she said warningly.
But Dorothy rushed on her fate.—“There seems very little satisfaction anywhere to-day,” she answered.
“Then I should wish to give the usual notice,” said Ruth.
“Very well,” said the reckless mistress.... “Ruth!” (Ruth returned). “You forgot what I said about always shutting the door quietly.”
This time the door closed so quietly behind Ruth that Dorothy heard her outburst into tears on the other side of it.
Second-hand woollies for her Bits!... Of course Amory Pratt had made the proposal with almost effusive considerateness. No doubt the twins, Corin and Bonniebell, had outgrown them. Dorothy did not suppose for a moment that they were not the best of their kind that money could buy; the Pratts seemed to roll in money. And beyond all dispute the winter might come any morning now, and the garments would just fit Jackie. But—her own Bits! ... she had had her back to the bedroom window when the offer had been made; she knew that her sudden flush had not showed; and her voice had not changed as she had deliberately told her lie—that she had bought the children’s winter outfits only the day before....
“I’m sure you won’t have any difficulty in giving them away,” she had concluded as she had passed to the bedroom door.
“Far less difficulty than you’ll find here,” she might have added, but had forborne....