"I hope you're better this morning, miss." Maggie felt this to be deeply ironical and flushed.
"I'm quite well, thank you," she said stiffly.

"What time is breakfast on Sundays ?" "The prayer-bell rings at a quarter to nine, miss." They exchanged no more conversation.
At a quarter to nine a shrill, jangling bell rang out and Maggie hurried down the dark staircase.

She did not know where the dining-room was, but by good chance she caught sight of Aunt Elizabeth's little body moving hurriedly down the passage and hastened after her.

She arrived only just in time.

There, standing in a row before four chairs, their faces red and shining, their hands folded in front of them, were the domestics; there, with a little high desk in front of her, on the other side of the long dining-room table was Aunt Anne; here, near the door, were two chairs obviously intended for Aunt Elizabeth and Maggie.
Maggie in her haste pushed the door, and it banged loudly behind her; in the silent room the noise echoed through the house.