"Are you fit to be down-stairs, mother?" she exclaimed.
"Might as well be down as up," said Mrs. Starling. "Can't get well lying in bed. I'm tired to death with it all these days; and last night I couldn't sleep half the night; seemed to me I heard all sorts of noises. If I'd had a light I'd ha' got up then. I thought the house was coming down about my ears; and if it was, I'd rather be up to see."
"The wind blew so."
"You heard it too, did you? When did you come down, Diana? I hain't heard the first sound of your door. 'Twarn't light, was it?"
"I have been up a good while. But you are not fit to do the least thing, mother. I was going to bring you your breakfast."
"If there's a thing I hate, it's to have my meals in bed. I don't want anything, to begin with; and I can take it better here. What have you got, Diana? You may make me a cup of tea. I don't feel as though I could touch coffee. What's the use o' your gettin' up so early?"
"I've all to do, you know, mother."
"No use in burning wood and lights half the night, though. The day's long enough. When did you bake?"
Diana answered this and several other similar household questions, and got her mother a cup of tea. But though it was accompanied with a nice bit of toast, Mrs. Starling looked with a dissatisfied air at the more substantial breakfast her daughter was setting on the table.
"I never could eat slops. Diana, you may give me some o' that pork. And a potato."