“No:  I don’t like livin’ with no step-aunt, though she ain’t that, bein’ further off:  an’ no real kin.  If you want to know why I don’t like it, it’s all work an’ no pay, that’s why.  First off, when I was too little to do anything else, I minded the children an’ run errands an’ washed doilies an’ towels an’ stockin’s an’ sich, an’ set table an’ cleared table an’ washed dishes an’ made beds an’ emptied slops.  Then I helped cook.  Now I cook.  Along with plenty other things.  How’d you like it yourself?” Her tone was suddenly fierce.  The fierceness of a strong and young creature in galling captivity.

His wandering life had given him an insight into such conditions and situations; and once or twice he had seen orphan children raised in homes where they “helped out.”  Chattel slavery is easier by comparison and pleasanter in reality.

Before he could answer, “Nan-cy!  You Nan-cy!  Come on here an’ set them pie-plates!  My Gawd! that girl’s goin’ to run me ravin’ crazy, tryin’ to keep her on her job!  Nancy!”

Nancy looked at Mr. Champneys speculatively.

“Is what you got to say worth me tellin’ her to set them plates herself?” she asked.

“Well worth it,” said Mr. Champneys, emphatically.

She jumped for the door with cat-like quickness.  Also, she lifted her voice with cat-like ferocity.

“I’m busy!  I can’t co-ome.  Set ’em yourself!”

“Can’t come!  What you doin’?” shrieked the other voice.

“I’m entertainin’ comp’ny in the parler, that’s what I’m doin’!  It’s somebody come to see me.  An’ I’m goin’ to wait right here till I find out what they come for!”

On the heels of that, Nancy slammed the parlor door, and sat down.

“Now say what you got to say, an’ don’t waste no time askin’ if I’m stuck on livin’ here with somethin’ like that!”

“You wish, then, to leave your aunt?”

“She ain’t no aunt of mine, I tell you.  She ain’t nothin’ but my mother’s stepfather’s daughter by his first wife.  Sure I want to leave her.  She took me because she needed a servant she didn’t have to pay reg’lar wages to.  I don’t owe her nothin’.  Nor him, neither.  He’s worse ’n her.”

“They are not kind to you?”

“No, they ain’t what you’d call kind to me.  But you ain’t come here to talk about them, I take it.  What was you wantin’ to see me about, Mister?”

“Suppose,” said he, leaning forward, “that you should be offered, in exchange for this,” his gesture damned the whole room, “a beautiful home, travel, culture, ease, all that makes life beautiful; would that offer appeal to you?” He looked at her earnestly.

“No housework, no cooking!  Clothes made for me especial?  Not hand-me-downs an’ left-overs?  No kids to mind, neither day nor night?”

“Housework?  Old clothes?  Minding children?  Certainly not!  I am not hiring a servant!  What are you thinking of?”