''Young, ain''t you?''
''Sixteen,'' said the dark nurse.
''Seventeen,'' I said.
''Sixteen? We should call you the child of the house, if it weren''t for Betty. Look here, Betty! Here''s a fresh young lady, look, almost your age. I should say she can run very quick up and down a set of stairs. I should say she''s got neat ways. Eh, Betty?''
She had called to a woman who stood at the bed across from mine, pulling a gown on over a great fat stomach. I thought her a girl at first; but when she turned and showed her face, I saw that she was quite grown-up, but a simpleton. She looked at me in a troubled sort of way, and the nurses laughed. I found out later that they used her more or less as they would a servant, and had her running every sort of chore; though she was—if you could believe it—the daughter of a very grand family.
She ducked her head while the nurses laughed, and cast a few sly looks at my feet—as if to see for herself how quick they might be, really. At last one of the other two women said quietly,
''Don''t mind them, Betty. They seek only to provoke you.''
''Who spoke to you?'' said Nurse Spiller at once.
The woman worked her lips. She was old, and slight, and very pale in the cheek. She caught my eye, then glanced away as if ashamed.