Prudence Read Online Free PDF

pursuing their way down the corridor.
    ‘Uncle said we should talk to Poll Parrot.’
    ‘But she don’t like us.’
    ‘And Wincle does! Wincle will do anything we ask.’
    If this was an exaggeration, the bulky individual who presided over the kitchens was at least sympathetic. Keeping tight hold of the squirming kitten, Prue remained by the door. She was fearful of its escaping to run amok among the shiny pots and pans, and the piles of food in preparation down a long wooden table in the middle.
    A stout woman with a large red face and a fringed mob cap had been at work on a quantity of pastry. She stood poised with a rolling pin at the ready, and a couple of minions, chopping away to one side, ceased their labours to stare as the twins raced up to the table.
    ‘What are you making, Wincle?’ demanded one, diverted from her mission. ‘Is it tarts?’
    The cook laid down her rolling pin and slapped at the finger which was about to poke at her pastry. ‘Get away, do, Miss Dodo! Folks have to eat that, I’ll have you know.’
    ‘Wincle, you’ve got to give us milk for the kitten,’ chimed in the other.
    ‘Kitten, Miss Lotty? We don’t have no kitten here.’
    ‘Will they be jam?’
    ‘The kitten our new governess brought. See?’
    As Lotty pointed—it must be Lotty, for the cook appeared to know one from the other—Prue came under immediate notice from the assembled company of servants. Wincle paused to slap Dodo’s hand away from the pastry again, and nodded towards the newcomer.
    ‘Didn’t see you there, miss. A kitten, is it?’
    ‘Yes, and you must give us some food for it, Wincle,’ persisted Lotty, before Prue could answer.
    ‘And milk,’ added Dodo. ‘It hasn’t eaten for hours, and it’s starving.’ She eyed the pastry with yearning. ‘So am I! And if you are making tarts, Wincle—’
    ‘Greedy-guts!’
    ‘Yes, and I suppose you wouldn’t eat any jam tarts, would you, Lotty?’
    The cook intervened. ‘Oy! Enough of it! That there pastry, Miss Dodo, happens to be for a raised pie for the master’s dinner.’
    ‘Well, but you might have some pastry left,’ Dodo pointed out, ‘and if you happened to make some jam tarts—’
    ‘We’ll see,’ said Wincle. ‘Meantime—’
    ‘That means she will make them. Dodo, you’re a disgusting pig!’
    Incensed, Dodo seized Lotty’s plait and pulled it sharply. The other shrieked, and instantly retaliated. Prue watched in dumbstruck horror as the two girls closed with each other. But in seconds they were separated, each held in one floury hand, Wincle’s bulk between them, her red face bent towards Dodo.
    ‘Nary a tart will you get from me, young saucebox, if that’s how you’re bent on conducting yourself!’ She turned on the other. ‘And as for you, Miss Lotty, I thought you come for that there kitten, not to attack your sister. I ought to bang your heads together! Where’s that Frenchie when she’s needed?’
    Both girls instantly stopped glaring at each other, instead seizing the floury hands that held them.
    ‘Please don’t tell Yvette!’
    ‘We’ll be good, Wincle, honest!’
    ‘We promise!’
    The cook released them. ‘Well, see you are, or it’ll be the worse for you both.’
    Prue was left wondering who Yvette might be, to have such an effect upon them. However, she felt it to be high time that she took a hand, or word of her uselessness would spread through the household in no time. She pushed forward.
    ‘I do beg your pardon. I should not have let them come in here, but I have only just made their acquaintance, you see, and—’
    ‘Never you worrit yourself, miss,’ said the cook, pushing the girls aside and bobbing a curtsy. ‘It’s Miss Hursley, I take it?’
    Prue assented. ‘How do you do? I am so sorry to trouble you, but it was indeed I who brought the kitten, and I fear it is very hungry indeed.’
    Favouring the animal with a croon or two, Wincle visibly succumbed. ‘Ah, the poor little thing.