Casting a look at her saucepans, as if to warn them concerning their behavior in her absence, she turned again to Mary, saying: "I believe I better show you the way myself.

It's easier to take you than find a girl to do it.

Them hussies is never where they oughto be! _You_ follow _me_." She led the way along two passages, and up a back staircase of stone--up and up, till Mary, unused to such heights, began to be aware of knees.

Plainly at last in the regions of the roof, she thought her hill Difficulty surmounted, but the cook turned a sharp corner, and Mary following found herself once more at the foot of a stair--very narrow and steep, leading up to one of those old-fashioned roof-turrets which had begun to appear in the new houses of that part of London.
"Are you taking me to the clouds, cook ?" she said, willing to be cheerful, and to acknowledge her obligation for laborious guidance.
"Not yet a bit, I hope," answered the cook; "we'll get there soon enough, anyhow--excep' you belong to them peculiars as wants to be saints afore their time.

If that's your sort, don't you come here; for a wickeder 'ouse, or an 'ouse as you got to work harder in o' Sundays, no one won't easily find in this here west end." With these words she panted up the last few steps, immediately at the top of which was the room sought.