'
'How could you work for them, when they are all rags and tatters?'
'There were some farmers' wives, miss,' said Gladys, colouring slightly,
'and the clergyman's family, and the steward's--I used to work for
them.'
'Then how came you here?'
'People couldn't work, or pay for work, miss, when every one was
starvin' around them.'
Mrs Prothero looked at Netta reproachfully. The girl was not really
hard-hearted, so she changed the subject.
'I daresay you can knit and mark samplers?' she said.
'Yes, miss, mother taught us to do that at school.'
'I think, Netta,' interrupted Mrs Prothero, 'that she must go to bed
now. She looks tired, and has been up long enough.'
'What a fuss mother makes about the girl,' muttered Netta as she left
the room.
The following day the bonnet was tastily trimmed under Netta's
superintendence, and work enough hunted up to employ Gladys for a month
at least. Netta even found an old cotton gown, which she presented to
her in return for her labours. It was not long enough, but Gladys
thought she might be able to lengthen it.
Whilst her convalescence and Netta's needlework were thus progressing,
there was an arrival at the farm. One evening the family were assembled
in the large hall, their usual sitting-room.
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