“Is it to goor to Cannadah? Oh, oie ’spects tree punds o’ month for the loike o’ that.”
“You must stay at home then, my good girl, and boil the dumplings,” said Flora. “Indeed, I cannot imagine what induced you to come up here to offer me your services. You literally can do nothing, for which you expect exorbitant wages. Why do you wish to leave your friends, to go out with strangers to Canada?”
“That’s moi consarn,” said the girl, with one of her gigantic expansions of mouth. “Oie he’eard ’twas a mortal good place for maids getting married. Husbands are scearce here, so oise thought, oise might as well try moi chance as the rest o’un. Won’t yah take oie?” Flora shook her head.
The girl twirled the strings of her checked apron, “Mayhap, yah won’t get anoder so willin’ to go, as I’se be.”
“Perhaps not. But I want a person of some experience—one who has been used to service, and could bring a good character from her last employer.”
“Karaktah! Karaktah!” said the girl contemptuously. “What need of a karaktah in such a place as Cannadah? Folk a’ go there need na karaktah, or they might jeest as well bide to whome.”
This last declaration settled the matter, and Flora, not without some difficulty, got rid of the promising candidate for matrimony and emigration. Her place was instantly supplied by a tall, hard-featured, middle-aged woman, who had been impatiently waiting for Miss Pack’s dismissal, in the kitchen, and who now rushed upon the scene, followed by three rude children, from six to ten years of age, a girl, and two impudent-looking boys, who ranged themselves in front of Mrs. Lyndsay, with open mouths, and eyes distended with eager curiosity, in order to attract her observation, and indulge themselves in a downright stare.
“Well, my good woman, and what is your business with me?” said Flora, not at all prepossessed by any of the group.
“Are you the mistress?” asked the woman, dropping a curtsy.
Flora answered in the affirmative.