Lady Scatcherd treated her as a farmer's wife might have treated some convalescent young lady who had been sent to her charge for a few weeks, in order that she might benefit by the country air.

Her ladyship could hardly bring herself to sit still and eat her dinner tranquilly in her guest's presence.

And then nothing was good enough for Mary.

Lady Scatcherd besought her, almost with tears, to say what she liked best to eat and drink; and was in despair when Mary declared she didn't care, that she liked anything, and that she was in nowise particular in such matters.
"A roast fowl, Miss Thorne ?" "Very nice, Lady Scatcherd." "And bread sauce ?" "Bread sauce--yes; oh, yes--I like bread sauce,"-- and poor Mary tried hard to show a little interest.
"And just a few sausages.

We make them all in the house, Miss Thorne; we know what they are.