They fancied that she was making good her footing with 'the Master;' and that she would then oust Mrs.Rusk--perhaps usurp her place--and so make a clean sweep of them all.

I fancy the honest little housekeeper did not discourage that suspicion.
About this time I recollect a pedlar--an odd, gipsified-looking man--called in at Knowl.

I and Catherine Jones were in the court when he came, and set down his pack on the low balustrade beside the door.
All sorts of commodities he had--ribbons, cottons, silks, stockings, lace, and even some bad jewellry; and just as he began his display--an interesting matter in a quiet country house--Madame came upon the ground.
He grinned a recognition, and hoped 'Madamasel' was well, and 'did not look to see _her_ here.' 'Madamasel' thanked him.

'Yes, vary well,' and looked for the first time decidedly 'put out.' 'Wat a pretty things!' she said.

'Catherine, run and tell Mrs.Rusk.