How would you like to have your pretty velvet bonnet spoiled by Mrs. Welsh spilling ink over it?"
"I should be angry."
"Well, it is the same case. You have spoiled the nice dinner she had provided for Mr. Welsh."
"Welsh is nothing. His father was an old Methody shopkeeper who ran away, having cheated a lot of folk out of their money. I know all about the Welshes. I'm not going to stand cheek from them."
"But you will listen to a word from me."
"Oh, miss, you are different. I wouldn't be impudent to you for anything. But it is other with them stuck-ups as are no better than myself."
"You will not try to twist yourself away from me?"
"No, miss."
"I want you to tell me, Thomasine, whither you were running? Were you going to Mrs. Saltren?"
"Mrs. Saltren!" scoffed the girl. "She is nothing. Marianne Saltren, the daughter of the canting old cheat, and widow of a mining captain. I won't be servant to her. Not I."
"Whither were you going, then?"
Thomasine was silent.
Arminell walked at her side; she had let go the girl's hand.
"I ran after you," said Arminell.
"Was that what made you so hot and out of breath, miss?"
"Yes, I was frightened when I heard that you had gone away."
"What was there to frighten you? I had not taken any spoons."
"I never supposed that for a moment. I was alarmed about yourself."
"I can take care of myself. I am old enough."
"I am not sure that you can take care of yourself. Thomasine, you and I come from the same place, dear
