"Why, for seeing that your mother was buried like a respectable woman. It begins to strike me that you'd have liked to have had her buried by the parish."
The Ogre thrust his red face so very close to Dick's that I suppose the provocation and temptation together were more than Dick could stand. Anyhow, Dick gave him a tremendous slap on the cheek. In a moment Mr Sanford was between them.
"It serves you right," he declared. "It shows what sort of person you must be that you should permit yourself to use such language in this house of mourning."
"Harris," shouted the Ogre, "run round to Charlie Radford and Bill Perkins and tell 'em I want 'em, quick! And loose the dogs and bring 'em back with you!"
"Begging of your pardon, Mr Miller," replied Harris, possibly perceiving in which direction the wind was about to blow, "but if you want any more of your dirty work done you'll do it yourself."
Cook was horrified.
"Well, the likes of that! After all Mr Miller has done for you!"
"Done for me! He has made me do what I'm ashamed of, that's what he's done for me! I've had enough of him, and of you too, Mrs Boyes was as good a mistress as anyone need have. I know it if no one else does. And, Miss Molly, your mother always paid my wages regular to the moment; you don't owe me nothing. And you don't owe cook and Betsy nothing either."
"What do you know about what is and is not owing me?" screamed cook.
"I know you were paid each month; and, what's more, I know you gave a receipt for it. Why, you told me yourself that you took the wages' receipt book from the little cupboard in the corner."