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“
Was
he
?
”
cried
Martha
.
“
Art
tha
’
sure
?
Tha
’
doesn
’
t
know
what
he
’
s
like
when
anything
vexes
him
.
He
’
s
a
big
lad
to
cry
like
a
baby
,
but
when
he
’
s
in
a
passion
he
’
ll
fair
scream
just
to
frighten
us
.
He
knows
us
daren
’
t
call
our
souls
our
own
.
”
“
He
wasn
’
t
vexed
,
”
said
Mary
.
“
I
asked
him
if
I
should
go
away
and
he
made
me
stay
.
He
asked
me
questions
and
I
sat
on
a
big
footstool
and
talked
to
him
about
India
and
about
the
robin
and
gardens
.
He
wouldn
’
t
let
me
go
.
He
let
me
see
his
mother
’
s
picture
.
Before
I
left
him
I
sang
him
to
sleep
.
”
Martha
fairly
gasped
with
amazement
.
“
I
can
scarcely
believe
thee
!
”
she
protested
.
“
It
’
s
as
if
tha
’
d
walked
straight
into
a
lion
’
s
den
.
If
he
’
d
been
like
he
is
most
times
he
’
d
have
throwed
himself
into
one
of
his
tantrums
and
roused
th
’
house
.
He
won
’
t
let
strangers
look
at
him
.
”
“
He
let
me
look
at
him
.
I
looked
at
him
all
the
time
and
he
looked
at
me
.
We
stared
!
”
said
Mary
.
“
I
don
’
t
know
what
to
do
!
”
cried
agitated
Martha
.
“
If
Mrs
.
Medlock
finds
out
,
she
’
ll
think
I
broke
orders
and
told
thee
and
I
shall
be
packed
back
to
mother
.
”
“
He
is
not
going
to
tell
Mrs
.
Medlock
anything
about
it
yet
.
It
’
s
to
be
a
sort
of
secret
just
at
first
,
”
said
Mary
firmly
.
“
And
he
says
everybody
is
obliged
to
do
as
he
pleases
.
”
“
Aye
,
that
’
s
true
enough
—
th
’
bad
lad
!
”
sighed
Martha
,
wiping
her
forehead
with
her
apron
.
“
He
says
Mrs
.
Medlock
must
.
And
he
wants
me
to
come
and
talk
to
him
every
day
.
And
you
are
to
tell
me
when
he
wants
me
.
”
