When Miss Squeers had 'done' the friend's hair, the friend 'did' Miss Squeers's hair, throwing in some striking improvements in the way of ringlets down the neck; and then, when they were both touched up to their entire satisfaction, they went downstairs in full state with the long gloves on, all ready for company.
'Where's John, 'Tilda ?' said Miss Squeers.
'Only gone home to clean himself,' replied the friend.

'He will be here by the time the tea's drawn.' 'I do so palpitate,' observed Miss Squeers.
'Ah! I know what it is,' replied the friend.
'I have not been used to it, you know, 'Tilda,' said Miss Squeers, applying her hand to the left side of her sash.
'You'll soon get the better of it, dear,' rejoined the friend.

While they were talking thus, the hungry servant brought in the tea-things, and, soon afterwards, somebody tapped at the room door.
'There he is!' cried Miss Squeers.

'Oh 'Tilda!' 'Hush!' said 'Tilda.

'Hem! Say, come in.' 'Come in,' cried Miss Squeers faintly.