"She never gave me nout, not the vally o' a brass thimble, all the
time I was there; but she was good-humoured, and always laughin', and
she talked no end o' proas over her tea; and, seeing me sa sackless
and dowly, she roused me up wi' her laughin' and stories; and I think
I liked her better than my aunt--children is so taken wi' a bit o' fun
or a story--though my aunt was very good to me, but a hard woman about
some things, and silent always.

"My aunt took me into her bed-chamber, that I might rest myself a bit
while she was settin' the tea in her room. But first, she patted me on
the shouther, and said I was a tall lass o' my years, and had spired
up well, and asked me if I could do plain work and stitchin'; and she
looked in my face, and said I was like my father, her brother, that
was dead and gone, and she hoped I was a better Christian, and wad na
du a' that lids (would not do anything of that sort).

"It was a hard sayin' the first time I set foot in her room, I
thought.

"When I went into the next room, the housekeeper's room--very
comfortable, yak (oak) all round--there was a fine fire blazin' away,
wi' coal, and peat, and wood, all in a low together, and tea on the
table, and hot cake, and smokin' meat; and there was Mrs. Wyvern, fat,
jolly, and talkin' away, more in an hour than my aunt would in a year.

"While I was still at my tea my aunt went up-stairs to see Madam
Crowl.

"'She's agone up to see that old Judith Squailes is awake,' says Mrs.
Wyvern. 'Judith sits with Madam Crowl when me and Mrs. Shutters'--that