were dirty too; at least I showed her six that were."

Without any comment Kitty left the room and descended to the kitchen.
All the way she went she was dreading what she should find when she got
there, and wondering how she should best approach matters, and it was a
relief to her on opening the kitchen door to find that Fanny was alone.
Fanny was looking cross enough at that moment to daunt any ordinary
courage, but, somehow, Kitty never felt as alarmed of her as of Emily.

"Well, Fanny," she began, intending to ignore the hints and rumours that
had reached her, "we have got back. We were wet through nearly, and now
father and I are longing for our supper. Have you got something very
nice for us?" She tried to speak cheerfully, but it cost her a great
effort.

Fanny took up the poker and made an attack on the stove. "You never
ordered nothing, Miss Kitty, and 'tisn't my place to say what you should
have."

"Oh but, Fanny, you generally do," said Kitty, half inclined to be
indignant at Fanny's injustice, for she could not help remembering how
Fanny, as a rule, resented any attempt on her part to order or arrange
the meals. She knew, though, that her only chance now was to be
patient, and to ignore a good many things. "And you manage so well, so
much better than I can." She felt she must say something to restore
peace and amiability, if they were to have any supper at all that night,
and not incur greater disgrace than she had already.

"I don't want to boast," said Fanny, "'tisn't my nature to do so, but if
I'm gived a free hand, well--I can turn out a passable meal; but when