They nodded to Polly, but did not speak.

Passing them to the head of the kitchen stairs she called to Mrs.Bubb, and that lady's voice summoned her to descend.
"Are you alone ?" asked Miss Sparkes sharply.
"There's only Mrs.Cheeseman." Polly went down into the kitchen, where Mrs.Cheeseman, a stout woman of slatternly appearance, was sitting with her legs crossed and a plate of shrimps in her lap.
"Have a srimp, Polly ?" began Mrs.Bubb, anxious to dismiss the memory of recent discord.
"Thank you, Mrs.Bubb, if I have a fancy for srimps I can afford to buy them for myself." "Well, you _are_ nasty! Ain't she real obstropolous, Mrs.Cheeseman?
I never knew a nastier-tempered girl in all my life, that I never did.
There's actially no living with her." "Now set down, Polly," urged the stout woman in an unctuous voice.

"Set down, do, an' tike things easy.

You'll worrit your sweet self to death before you're many years older if you go on like this." "I'm much obliged to you, Mrs.Cheeseman," answered Polly, holding herself very stiff; "but I didn't come here to set down, nor to talk neither.

But I'm glad you're here, because you'll be a witness to what I say.