"Oh, here you are, sly little cat! Who said you might come into this
room?"

Fan, starting up in alarm, found herself confronted with the pretty
housemaid. But the pretty eyes were sparkling vindictively, the breath
coming short and quick, and the pretty face was white with resentment.

"The lady told me to come here," returned Fan, still a little frightened.

"Oh, did she! and pray what else did she tell you? And don't lie, because
I shall find you out if you do."

Fan was silent.

"You won't speak, you little sneak! When your mistress is out you must
mind _me_--do you hear? Go instantly and take your filthy rags to
the dust-bin, and ask cook for a bottle of carbolic acid to throw over
them. We don't want any of your nasty infectious fevers brought here, if
you please."

Fan hesitated a few moments, and then replied, "I'll only do what the
lady tells me."

"You'll only do what the lady tells you!" she repeated, with a mocking
whine. Then, in unconscious imitation of the scornful caterpillar in the
wonderful story of Alice, she added, "You! And who are _you_! Shall
I tell you what you are? A filthy, ragged little beggar picked out of the
gutter, a sneaking area thief, put into the house for a spy! You vile
cat, you! A starving mangy cur! Yes, I'll give you your dinner; I'll feed
you on swill and dog-biscuits, and that's better than you ever had in