Elizabeth
I wasted no time and rushed home, eager to tell Mrs. Hamilton that I pulled it off.
The cab stopped right in front of Mrs. Hamilton's house, and I hurried inside.
"Mrs. Hamilton!... Mrs. Hamilton!" I screamed as I ran into her living room. She sat comfortably, knitting a piece of tablecloth. Her stern eyes fell on me, a frown settling on her face.
"An elegant lady does not scream like a mad Zulu woman."
I rolled my eyes as I kicked off my shoes and settled on the couch. "Guess what?" I gasped.
"I do not like guesses. Go straight to the point!"
I squealed like a child and hugged her. "I got the job, Mrs. Hamilton. Thank you so much."
She didn't smile. Instead, she knocked my hands from around her shoulders. I didn't mind, though; it was her way of expressing emotions. "Shouldn't you have had a job before now?"
I pouted. "Come on, let's celebrate!"
I ran to the kitchen. Champagne for me and juice for Mrs. Hamilton.
"Do not waste my champagne." She wanted to hide the smile, but
