"Well, have you kept any breakfast for me, Mrs. Purcell?"
"I didn't set by nothin' in particular. I didn't know as you'd be down 'fore dinner. You didn't say."
Rotha waited a minute, to let patience have a chance to get her footing; she seemed to be tottering. Then she said, and she said it quietly,
"Where can I get something to eat?"
"I don' know," said the woman indifferently.
"But I must have some breakfast," said Rotha.
"Must you? Well, I don' know how you'll get it. My hands is full."
"You must give it to me," said Rotha firmly. "I will take it cold, or any way you please; but I must have something."
Mrs. Purcell sat silent at her bean picking, and there was a look of defiance on her handsome face which nearly put Rotha's patience to a shameful rout. She hardly knew how to go on; and was extremely glad to see Mr. Purcell come in from the lower kitchen.
"Wet mornin'!" said Mr. Purcell, with a little jerk of his head which did duty for a salutation.