That's the worst of being a servant. They sent Jim away
just as if he was a dog. It was wrong of him to say the horse pulled up
lame; I admit that, but they needn't have sent him away as they did."
Esther was absorbed in the consideration of her own perilous position.
Would they send her away at the end of the week, or that very afternoon?
Would they give her a week's wages, or would they turn her out destitute
to find her way back to London as best she might? What should she do if
they turned her out-of-doors that very afternoon? Walk back to London? She
did not know if that was possible. She did not know how far she had
come--a long distance, no doubt. She had seen woods, hills, rivers, and
towns flying past. Never would she be able to find her way back through
that endless country; besides, she could not carry her box on her back....
What was she to do? Not a friend, not a penny in the world. Oh, why did
such misfortune fall on a poor little girl who had never harmed anyone in
the world! And if they did give her her fare back--what then?... Should
she go home?... To her mother--to her poor mother, who would burst into
tears, who would say, "Oh, my poor darling, I don't know what we shall do;
your father will never let you stay here."
For Mrs. Latch had not spoken to her since she had come into the kitchen,
and it seemed to Esther that she had looked round with the air of one
anxious to discover something that might serve as a pretext for blame.
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