CHAPTER IV 24
" Who is going to dress me?" demanded Mary.
Martha sat up on her heels again and stared. She spoke in broad Yorkshire in her amazement.
" Canna ' tha ' dress thysen!" she said. " What do you mean? I don ' t understand your language," said Mary.
" Eh! I forgot," Martha said. " Mrs. Medlock told me I ' d have to be careful or you wouldn ' t know what I was sayin '. I mean can ' t you put on your own clothes?"
" No," answered Mary, quite indignantly. " I never did in my life. My Ayah dressed me, of course."
" Well," said Martha, evidently not in the least aware that she was impudent, " it ' s time tha ' should learn. Tha ' cannot begin younger. It ' ll do thee good to wait on thysen a bit. My mother always said she couldn ' t see why grand people ' s children didn ' t turn out fair fools--what with nurses an ' bein ' washed an ' dressed an ' took out to walk as if they was puppies!"
" It is different in India," said Mistress Mary disdainfully. She could scarcely stand this.
But Martha was not at all crushed.
" Eh! I can see it ' s different," she answered almost sympathetically. " I dare say it ' s because there ' s such a lot o ' blacks there instead o ' respectable white people. When I heard you was comin ' from India I thought you was a black too."
Mary sat up in bed furious.
" What!" she said. " What! You thought I was a native. You--you daughter of a pig!"