Deeply engaged though she was with her private grievance, Miss Bilson could not but observe this.

It made her nervous.
"What is the meaning," she began, her voice shrill with agitation, "of the extraordinary story about Miss Damaris which Laura reports to me?
Someone is evidently very much in fault." "Please don't speak quite so loud, Miss," Mary firmly admonished her.
"I've just got Miss Damaris quieted off to sleep, and if she's roused up again, I won't answer for what mayn't happen." "But what has happened?
I insist upon knowing," Theresa declared, in growing offence and agitation.
"Ah! that's just what we should be thankful enough to have you tell us, Miss," Mrs.Cooper chimed in with heavy and reproachful emphasis upon the pronouns.
To even the mild and cow-like revenge is sweet.

Though honestly distressed and scared, the speaker entertained a most consoling conviction she was at this moment getting even with Theresa Bilson and cleverly paying off old scores.
"The pore dear young lady's caught her death as likely as not, out there across the river in the wet, let alone some sneaking rascal making off with her stockings and shoes.

When I saw her little naked feet, all blue with the cold, it made my heart bleed, regularly bleed, it did.

I could only give thanks her Nanna, pore Mrs.Watson, who worshipped the very ground Miss Damaris trod on, was spared living to see that afflicting sight." Then with a change of tone exasperating--as it was designed to be--to one, at least, of her hearers, she added: "I'll have that soup ready against Miss Damaris wakes, Mary, in case she should fancy it.