Cry for Diggory, indeed!"
"She was really crying for him, Walter," interposed Lucy.
"Mistress Lucy!" exclaimed Deborah, angrily, "the life I lead among
you is enough--"
"Not enough to teach you good temper," said Walter. "Do you want a
little more?"
"I wish someone was here to teach you good manners," answered the
tormented Deborah. "As if it was not enough for one poor girl to
have the work of ten servants on her hands, here must you be mock,
mock, jeer, jeer, worrit, worrit, all day long! I had rather be a
mark for all the musketeers in the Parliamentary army."
This Deborah always said when she was out of temper, and it therefore
made Walter and Lucy laugh the more; but in the midst of their
merriment in came a girl of sixteen or seventeen, tall and graceful.
Her head was bare, her hair fastened in a knot behind, and in little
curls round her face; she had an open bodice of green silk, and a
white dress under it, very plain and neat; her step was quick and
active, but her large dark eyes had a grave thoughtful look, as if
she was one who would naturally have loved to sit still and think,
better than to bustle about and be busy. Eleanor ran up to her at
once, complaining that Walter was teasing Deborah shamefully. She
was going to speak, but Deborah cut her short.
"No Mistress Rose, I will not have even you excuse him, I'll go and
tell my lady how a poor faithful wench is served;" and away she
flounced, followed by Rose.
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