“Yes Delia” ses she quickly, turning round in a bounce.
“Nothing” ses I, angry wid mesilf for me meekness.
“Delia” ses she despritly, “we’ve tuk a place in the cuntry. We must have a girl. Its dredful to think of being widout one. O Delia, do please cum wid us.”
“No-o—Miss—” ses I a bit tremendulussly.
“I’ll—I’ll—give you that old—er—its not relly old—black taffita jacket of mine” ses she.
I skuk me hed.
“—and the skurt wid the box plates” ses she “and you can have that tucked shemysett—you no, the one you do up so luvly.”
“No Miss Claire” ses I firmly, getting up. “I’m for uther wark than gineral housewark.” She got up also, and her voyce sounds a bit shakey.
“Very well Delia” ses she. “Its hard on me——so much trubble——” Thin her blue eyes run over, and she walked away, wiping thim wid her handkychiff. I seen her go out the dure. I filt a sinking at me hart. Minnie Carnavan was forgotten, and like the gump she ses I am I made a grand dash fur the dure, wid all the Miss Flimflams of the Alluyunce, and the ladies thimsilves gaping after me in horrow. I seen Miss Claire half a block away, and I run after her puffing:
“Miss Claire! Darlint! Miss Claire!” I called after her. She turned about and guve me wan look. Then she made a like grand dash as mesilf. Her parrysol flew out of her hand, also her rist bag.