“My dear Sara,” she said, “Becky is the scullery maid. Scullery maids—er—are not little girls.”
It really had not occurred to her to think of them in that light. Scullery maids were machines who carried coal scuttles and made fires.
“But Becky is,” said Sara. “And I know she would enjoy herself. Please let her stay—because it is my birthday.”
Miss Minchin replied with much dignity:
“As you ask it as a birthday favor—she may stay. Rebecca,
“My dear Sara,” she said, “Becky is the scullery maid. Scullery maids—er—are not little girls.”
It really had not occurred to her to think of them in that light. Scullery maids were machines who carried coal scuttles and made fires.
“But Becky is,” said Sara. “And I know she would enjoy herself. Please let her stay—because it is my birthday.”
Miss Minchin replied with much dignity:
“As you ask it as a birthday favor—she may stay. Rebecca,
