The landlady, with her great face frowning, continued to look at the girl, and for a moment did not answer.
At length, “You’ve run away,” she said, “from your friends?”
Henrietta nodded loftily.
“From a distance, I take it?”
“Yes.”
“Well,” Mrs. Gilson rejoined, her face continuing to express growing disapproval, “there’s a stock of fools near and far. And if I did my duty, young lady, there’d be one who would likely be thankful all her life.” She took the snuffers and slowly and carefully snuffed the two candles. “If I did my duty, I’d lock you up and keep you safe till your friends came for you.”
“You are insolent,” the girl cried, flaming up.
“That depends,” Mrs. Gilson retorted, with the utmost coolness. “Fine feathers make fine birds. You may be my lady, or my lady’s maid. Men are such fools—all’s of the best that’s red and white. But I’m not so easy.”
Henrietta raised her chin a little higher.
“Be good enough to leave the room!” she said.