akfast hour is eight; not a quarter past."
"It's not a mite of use telling me the hours. I'm always late! I don't
suppose I've ever been down in time in my life, unless by a mistake,"
returned Cornelia, cheerfully. "I like to stay in bed and let the day
get sorter warmed up and comfortable, before I begin. What makes you
want to get up so early, anyway? I should have thought nine would have
been heaps early enough, when you have nothing to do."
It was not a promising beginning to the day. In her own household Miss
Briskett was accustomed to an authority as complete as that of the
general of an army. She was just, and she was generous; her servants
were treated with kindness and consideration, but if they wished to
retain their places, they had to learn the lesson of dumb, unquestioning
obedience. She might be right, she might be wrong, she might remember,
she might forget--no matter! it was not their business to enlighten her.
"Theirs but to do, and die!" She would not brook a question as to her
own authority. It was, therefore, a distinct blow to the good lady to
find her decrees ignored by her young guest with a smiling good-nature,
more baffling than the most determined opposition.
She remained stolidly silent throughout the meal, but Cornelia
apparently regarded he attitude as a tactful abdication in her own
favour, and kept up an incessant flow of conversation from start to
finish. When the bell was rung for prayers, she seated herself in a low
chair, directly facing the servants' seats, and smiled a dazzling
greeting to each in turn. They sat down in their usual positions, heads
bent, hands folded on the middle of their clean white aprons; feet
tucked carefully out of sight; there was no outward sign of irreverence
or inattention in their demeanour, but Miss Briskett _felt_, that every
single woman of them was absorbed--utterly, consumedly absorbed--in
casting sly glances at that distracting white vision in the easy chair;
at the dully glowing hair, the floating folds of white, the tiny,
extended feet. She might have read a page of the dictionary, and they
would not have noticed; even Heap, who was old enough to know better,
was edging sideways in her chair, to get a better view!
When the four stiffly-starched dresses had rustled out of the room,
Cornelia yawned, and stretched herself like a sleepy, luxurious kitten,
then snoodled down once more in her comfortable chair. Her eyes were
fixed up
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