Volume V Part 63 (1/2)

No, no! But girls have appet.i.tes.

FAITH. They didn't get much chance where I've been.

COOK. Ah! You must tell me all about it. Did you have adventures?

FAITH. There isn't such a thing in a prison.

COOK. You don't say! Why, in the books they're escapin' all the time.

But books is books; I've always said so. How were the men?

FAITH. Never saw a man--only a chaplain.

COOK. Dear, dear! They must be quite fresh to you, then! How long was it?

FAITH. Two years.

COOK. And never a day out? What did you do all the time? Did they learn you anything?

FAITH. Weaving. That's why I hate it.

COOK. Tell me about your poor little baby. I'm sure you meant it for the best.

FAITH. [Sardonically] Yes; I was afraid they'd make it a ward in Chancery.

COOK. Oh! dear--what things do come into your head! Why! No one can take a baby from its mother.

FAITH. Except the Law.

COOK. Tt! Tt! Well! Here's the pickled onions. Miss Mary loves 'em!

Now then, let me see you lay the cloth.

She takes a tablecloth out, hands it to FAITH, and while the girl begins to unfold the cloth she crosses to the service shutter.

And here's where we pa.s.s the dishes through into the pantry.

The door is opened, and MRS MARCH'S voice says: ”Cook--a minute!”

[Preparing to go] Salt cellars one at each corner--four, and the peppers.

[From the door] Now the decanters. Oh! you'll soon get on. [MRS MARCH ”Cook!”] Yes, ma'am.

She goes. FAITH, left alone, stands motionless, biting her pretty lip, her eyes mutinous. Hearing footsteps, she looks up. MR BLY, with his pail and cloths, appears outside.

BLY. [Preparing to work, while FAITH prepares to set the salt cellars]

So you've got it! You never know your luck. Up to-day and down to-morrow. I'll 'ave a gla.s.s over this to-night. What d'you get?

FAITH. Thirty.

BLY. It's not the market price, still, you're not the market article.