sit down there in the corner by the fire; and when the company
comes don't dare to speak until you're spoken to. (Essie creeps
away to the fireplace.) Your father's people had better see you
and know you're there: they're as much bound to keep you from
starvation as I am. At any rate they might help. But let me have
no chattering and making free with them, as if you were their
equal. Do you hear?

ESSIE. Yes.

MRS. DUDGEON. Well, then go and do as you're told.

(Essie sits down miserably on the corner of the fender furthest
from the door.) Never mind her, Mrs. Anderson: you know who she
is and what she is. If she gives you any trouble, just tell me;
and I'll settle accounts with her. (Mrs. Dudgeon goes into the
bedroom, shutting the door sharply behind her as if even it had
to be made to do its duty with a ruthless hand.)

JUDITH (patronizing Essie, and arranging the cake and wine on the
table more becomingly). You must not mind if your aunt is strict
with you. She is a very good woman, and desires your good too.

ESSIE (in listless misery). Yes.

JUDITH (annoyed with Essie for her failure to be consoled and
edified, and to appreciate the kindly condescension of the
remark). You are not going to be sullen, I hope, Essie.

ESSIE. No.