Jennet came in, and dropped a "lout" to the bride, whom she was disposed to regard with great reverence as a real lady. At that time, "lady" was restricted to women of title, the general designation being "gentlewoman." "Here, woman!" was Gertrude's peremptory order. "Untwist my hair, and dress it o'er again." Jennet quickly untwisted the hair, which was elaborately curled and frizzed; and when it was reduced to smoothness, asked,--"What mun [must] I do wi' 't?" "Eh?" said Gertrude. "I'm ill set [I find it difficult] to make thore twirls and twists," explained Jennet. "Mun I curl 't, or ye'll ha' 't bred?" [Braided, plaited.] "What means the jade?" demanded Gertrude with an oath. Clare was horrified. She had heard men swear when they were in a passion, and one or two when they were not; but that a woman should deliberately preface her words with oaths was something new and shocking to her. Lady Enville's strongest adjurations were mild little asseverations "by this fair daylight," or words no nearer profanity. However, startled as she was, Clare came out of her corner to mediate. "How should it like you dressed?" "Oh! with the crisping-pins. 'Twill take as short time as any way." "Wi' whatten a thingcum?" [with what sort of a thing] stared Jennet. "I am afeared, Sister, we have no crisping-pins," said Clare. "No crisping-pins!" cried Gertrude, with another oath. "Verily, I might have come to Barbary! Are you well assured?" "Be there any manner of irons, Jennet, for crisping or curling the hair?" "Nay, Mistress Clare, we're Christians here," said Jennet in her coolest manner, which was very cool indeed. "We known nought about French ways, nor foreigners nother. [In Lancashire, strangers to the locality, if only from the next county, are termed foreigners.] There's been no such gear i' this house sin' I come--and that's eighteen year come Lady Day." "Good sonties! [Little saints!] do't as thou wilt," sneered Gertrude. "I would I had brought all my gear withal. Whate'er possessed yon jade Audrey to fall sick, that I was like to leave her behind at Chester!-- Truly, I knew not what idiots I was coming amongst--very savages, that wist not the usages of decent folk!" "Bi' th' mass!" [not yet obsolete] cried Jennet in burning wrath, resorting to her strongest language, "but I'm no more an idiot nor thee, my well-spoken dame,--nay, nor a savage nother. And afore I set up to dress thy hure again, thou may ask me o' thy bended knees--nor I'll none do't then, I warrant thee!"