"You leave her alone," said nurse. "But she's dreadful put out, Miss Renny; there's no doubt of that. I doubt if she'll cook any dinner for Miss Tredgold."
Verena, Pauline, and Penelope now rushed round to the kitchen premises. They were nervous, but at the same time they were brave. They must see what Betty intended to do. They burst open the door. The kitchen was not too clean. It was a spacious apartment, which in the days when the old house belonged to rich people was well taken care of, and must have sent forth glorious fires--fires meant to cook noble joints. On the present occasion the fire was dead out; the range looked a dull gray, piles of ashes lying in a forlorn manner at its feet. Betty was sitting at the opposite side of the kitchen, her feet on one chair and her capacious person on another. She was busily engaged devouring the last number of the _Family Paper_. She had come to a most rousing portion in her story--that part in which the duke marries the governess. Betty was, as she said, all in a twitter to see how matters would end; but just at this crucial moment the girls burst in.
"Betty, do stop reading," said Verena. "She's come, Betty."
"I know," cried Betty. "I'm not deaf, I suppose. John told me. He brought her, drat him! He says she's the sort to turn the house topsy-turvy. I'll have none of her. I won't alter my ways--no, not a hand's-turn--for the like of her, and I go this day month."
"I do, my dear; I do. I can't put up with the ways of them sort--never could. I like you well enough, young ladies, and your pa; and I'd stop with you willing--so I would, honey--but I can't abide the likes of her."
"All the same, she's come, Betty, and we must have something for dinner. Have you anything in the house?"
"Oh, Betty!" said Verena; "and I told you this morning, and so did nurse. We said we must have dinner to-night at seven o'clock. You should have got something for her."
"But I ain't done it. The stove's out of order; we want the sweep. I have a splitting headache, and I'm just reading to keep my mind off the pain."
"But what are we to do? We must get her something."
"Can't she have tea and bread-and-butter? We've half-a-pound of cooking butter in the house."