to Maud; showing in this respect
a national similitude to the highest circles
of our society, whose language is not
understood out of their own set. Mrs. Rouse was
treated with becoming deference, and Mrs.
Rouse did not unbend much in laughter, like
the younger members of the establishment.
Perhaps, because she was vigilantly watching
Maud, and was undoubtedly desirous
of inspiring her with a wholesome awe; for
it was clear that she could, and did, enjoy
the lively Dapper's sallies at a more
convenient season; and that, while maintaining
her authority, she was by no means
unpopular with the servants under her.

"But there's a time for everything, Mr.
Dapper," as she observed to her colleague,
that afternoon, "and I'm not rightly easy
in my mind about that new young woman.
She's a puzzle to me, Mr. Dapper, and I
don't like puzzles, I likes plain sailing;
and I'm going to watch her pretty sharp,
that's what I'm going to do. So you look
out now, and don't be playin' the fool as
you done with that——"

"Lor'! Mrs. Rouse, 'ow you do rake up
old scores, to be sure! And there was
nothing in it, after all, to make such a fuss
about. It was only as one may say, a
pass-tong; no 'arm, I'm sure."

"I don't know what a pass-tong is, Mr.
Dapper; but I know I packed off the jade
in double-quick time, and I'll do the same
by this one, if I find she's up to any of
her tricks, and so I tell ye. She looks
mighty prim, but I always mistrust them
mealy-mouthed ones; and she's got a devil
in her eye, if I don't mistake. The missis
is fairly taken with her parlez-vousing.
Well! we shall see!"

And with this ominous declaration she
left Dapper to his reflections.

Conscious of the hostile feelings that
met her on every side but one (where she
would have preferred a mild hostility),
conscious that in her false position, do
what she would, her conduct was liable to
be misunderstood, Maud's heart, usually so
dauntless, sank within her. Should she
exert herself to try and talk and laugh
with the servants, and to interest herself,
as she believed she could do sooner or
later, if she chose, in their concerns, she
had a conviction that Mrs. Rouse would
look upon her as a forward hussy, laying
herself out to attract the men. Should she
continue to shut herself up within herself,
which her own state of feeling, aggravated
by Mr. Dapper's sickening obsequiousness,
inclined her to do, then, of course, she
must make up her mind to be hated by the
whole household. If she could only pass
the entire day with the irascible but
entertaining old lady up-stairs, and take her
meals in solitude, Maud felt that she could
be comparatively happy; the life would, at
least, be endurable. But, constituted as she
was, would it be endurable if she must be
thrown into an hourly contact, which was
close and yet could not be intimate, with Mr.
Dapper and Mrs. Rouse? She possessed
strong human sympathies; it was that
marked characteristic which had led to her
throwing herself heart and soul into the joys
and troubles of certain among the poor of
Mortlands; it was that which Sir Andrew
termed her "confounded low radical
tendencies," which had made her feel so
intensely desolate when moving among the
cold phantoms of polished life, and had made
her yearn for more stirring interests, no
matter in what sphere of society. To be
no longer a drone, then, to find herself
among the working bees, and to be in a state
of antagonism with her fellow-workers, was
a condition of things which Maud had never
contemplated, and which she knew would
be intolerable to her.

The afternoon passed quickly; Mrs.
Cartaret was dressed, Mrs. Rouse officiating as
the chief priest, and Maud performing such
minor rites as her inexperience allowed
her; after which she was instructed in her
various duties by Mrs. Rouse, who read
her a running homily on the conduct of
servants in general and under lady's-maids
in particular, to which Maud listened with
a kind of obstinate patience. Then, at
half-past four o'clock, there was tea, and
Maud had to undergo a modified repetition
of what she had endured at dinner. Soon
after that, Mrs. Cartaret sent for her. She
was in her dressing-room, sitting over the
fire, with an old-fashioned tambour-frame
in her lap. But it was too dark to work,
and Mr. Dapper had not yet thought fit to
bring in the lamp.

"Is that you, Mary Hind?" began the
old lady in her high-pitched voice. "Come
in, and shut the door. You shall read to
me when the lights come—sit down now,
and turn your face to the fire, so that I can
see it— H'm! I like it, and I like your
voice—I think you may suit me, but I
want to tell you one thing, I cannot have
any girl who does not get on with Mrs.
Rouse. D'ye understand, eh? You must
treat her with great respect—you must do
all she tells you—or ... or ... it will never
do—never!"