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Nesbit, E. (Edith), 1858-1924

"The Phoenix and the Carpet"

But the housemaid,
more acute, judged that someone must have been in the house--a view
confirmed by the sight of the breakfast things on the nursery
table.
The cupboard under the stairs was very tight and paraffiny,
however, and a silent struggle for a place on top ended in the door
bursting open and discharging Jane, who rolled like a football to
the feet of the servants.
'Now,' said Cyril, firmly, when the cook's hysterics had become
quieter, and the housemaid had time to say what she thought of
them, 'don't you begin jawing us. We aren't going to stand it. We
know too much. You'll please make an extra special treacle roley
for dinner, and we'll have a tinned tongue.'
'I daresay,' said the housemaid, indignant, still in her outdoor
things and with her hat very much on one side. 'Don't you come
a-threatening me, Master Cyril, because I won't stand it, so I tell
you. You tell your ma about us being out? Much I care! She'll be
sorry for me when she hears about my dear great-aunt by marriage as
brought me up from a child and was a mother to me. She sent for
me, she did, she wasn't expected to last the night, from the spasms
going to her legs--and cook was that kind and careful she couldn't
let me go alone, so--'
'Don't,' said Anthea, in real distress.


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