But the driver, obsessed by the fact that she had lived with the “Queen of Rooshia,” merely grinned and repeated, “Pretty soft,” and, shouldering her trunk, walked to the front door, chewing furiously.
Martha opened the door, stared through her spectacles.
“Land o’ mercy!” she gasped. “It’s Palla!” Which, in Shadow Hill, is the manner and speech of the “hired girl,” whose “folks” are “neighbours” and not inferiors.
“How do you do, Martha,” said the girl smilingly; and offered her gloved hand.
“Well, I’m so’s to be ’round––” She wheeled on the man with the trunk: “Here, you! Don’t go-a-trackin’ mud all over my carpet like that! Wipe your feet like as if you was brought up respectful!”
“Ain’t I wipin’ em?” retorted the driver, in an injured voice. “Now then, Marthy, where does this here trunk go to?”
“Big room front––wait, young fellow; you just follow me and be careful don’t bang the banisters–––”
Half way up she called back over her shoulder: “Your room’s all ready, Palla––” and suddenly remembered something else and stood aside on the landing until the young man with the trunk had passed her; then waited for him to return and get himself out of the house. Then, when he had gone out, banging the door, she came slowly back down the stairs and met Palla ascending.
“Where is my aunt?” asked Palla.