"And why not?" Tom asked pertinently. "Why should you not come here?"
"Why?" she retorted, properly scandalised. "What! Come where the family walk? I should hope I know my place better than that, sir. And to behave myself in it."
"Very prettily, I am sure," Tom declared, with a bold stare of admiration.
"As becomes me, sir, I hope," Betty answered demurely, and to show that the stare had no effect upon her, primly turned her head away.
"Though you were brought up with your mistress? Or was it with your late mistress?" Tom asked slily. "Or have you forgotten which it was, Betty?"
"I hope I've never forgotten any one who was kind to me," she whispered, her head drooping so that he could not see her face. "There's not many think of a poor girl in service; though I come of some that ha' seen better days."
"Indeed, Betty. Is that so?"
"So I've heard, sir."
"Well, will you count me among your friends, Betty?"
"La, no, sir!" with vivacity, and she shot him with an arch glance. "I should think not indeed! I should like to know why, sir?" and she tossed her head disdainfully. "But there, I've talked too long. I'm sure her ladyship would not like it, and asking your pardon, sir, I'll go on."