"
"That's a good thing, it's blowing so hard.... Good-night."
But it was not so pleasant for Fru Heyerdahl to get her husband to
wake her in the middle of the night and go padding across herself to
the servants' room to see if they were at home. They could do as they
pleased, she would trouble herself no more.
And if it had not been for sheer ill-luck, Barbro might have stayed
the year out in her place that way. But a few days ago the trouble had
come.
It was in the kitchen, early one morning. Barbro had been having some
words with Cook, and no light words either; they raised their voices,
forgetting all about their mistress. Cook was a mean thing and a
cheat, she had sneaked off last night out of her turn because it was
Sunday. And what excuse had she to give? Going to say good-bye to her
favourite sister that was off to America? Not a bit of it; Cook had
made no excuse at all, but simply said that Sunday night was one had
been owing to her for a long time.
"Oh, you've not an atom of truth nor decency in your body!" said
Barbro.
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