"If you got frightened, all you'd have to do would be to take your little feet in your hand and run down to we; that's all you could do."
Rotha looked somewhat dismayed.
"I could ha' told you, it wasn't a very pleasant place you was a comin' to," Mrs. Purcell went on. "Sick o' your bargain, aint ye?"
"What bargain?"
"I don' know! Which o' these here rooms will you take? You've seen the whole now."
Rotha was very unwilling to make choice at all up there. Yet a thought of one of those great echoing drawing rooms was dismissed as soon as it came. At last she fixed upon a room near the head of the stairs; a corner room, with outlook in two directions; flung open the windows to let the air and the light come, in; and locked up her bag in a closet.
"There aint nobody to meddle with your things," observed Mrs. Purcell, noticing this action,—"without it's me; and I've got enough to do down stairs. There's nothin' worse than rats in the house."
"Have you some sheets and towels for me?" said Rotha. "And can you give me some water by and by?"
"I've got no sheets and towels but them as us uses," replied Mrs. Purcell. "Mrs Busby haint said nothin' about no sheets and towels. Those us has belongs to we. They aint like what rich folks has."
"I have brought none with me, of course. Mrs. Busby will pay you for the use of them, I have no doubt."