"I don't mean any--"

"No offence being given none is taken," interrupted cook, who
seemed fond of hearing her own wheezy voice. "Emily Pill's my
name, and I ain't ashamed of it, me having been cook to Miss
Loach for years an' years and years. But if you had wished to
behave like a servant, as you are," added she with emphasis,
"why didn't you run round by the veranda and so get to the
back where the kitchen is. But you're one of the new class of
servants, Miss Grant, 'aughty and upsetting."

"I know my place," said Susan, taking off her hat.

"And I know mine," said Emily Pill, "me being cook and
consequently the mistress of this servants' 'all. An' I'm an
old-fashioned servant myself, plain in my 'abits and dress."
This with a disparaging look at the rather smart costume of
the newly-arrived housemaid. "I don't 'old with cockes
feathers and fal-de-dals on 'umble folk myself, not but what I
could afford 'em if I liked, being of saving 'abits and a
receiver of good wages. But I'm a friendly pusson and not
'ard on a good-lookin' gal, not that you are what I call
'andsome."

Susan seated beside the table, looked weary and forlorn, and
the good-natured heart of the cook was touched, especially
when Susan requested her to refrain from the stiff name of
Miss Grant.

"You an' me will be good friends, I've no doubt," said Emily,