got any thanks for it. It always made them presumptuous
and dissatisfied. The more you did for them, the more they expected,
and soon came to demand as a right what had been at first granted as
a favor. Mrs. Armitage was, in a word, one of those petty domestic
tyrants, who rule with the rod of apparent authority. Perfect
submission she deemed the only true order in a household. Of course,
true order she never could gain, for such a thing as perfect
submission to arbitrary rule among domestics in this country never
has and never will be yielded. The law of kindness and consideration
is the only true law, and where this is not efficient, none other
will or can be.

As for Mrs. Armitage and her daughters, each one of whom bore
herself towards the domestics with an air of imperiousness and
dictation, they never reflected before requiring a service whether
such a service would not be felt as burdensome in the extreme, and
therefore, whether it might not be dispensed with at the time.
Without regard to what might be going on in the kitchen, the parlor
or chamber, bells were rung, and servants required to leave their
half finished meals, or to break away in the midst of important
duties that had to be done by a certain time, to attend to some
trifling matter which, in fact, should never have been assigned to a
domestic at all. Under this system, it was no wonder that a constant
succession of complaints against servants should be made by the
Armitages. How could it be otherwise? Flesh and blood could not
patiently bear the trials to which these people were subjected. Nor
was it any wonder, that frequent changes took place, or that they
were only able to retain the most inferior class of servants, and
then only for short periods.

There are few, perhaps, who cannot refer, among their acquaintances,
to a family like the Armitages. They may ordinarily be known by
their constant complaints about servants, and their dictatorial way
of speaking whenever they happen to call upon them for the
performance of any duty.

In pleasing contrast to them were the Milnors.

Let us go with Helen in her visit to Fanny. When the day came which
she had promised to spend with her young friend, Helen, after
getting out of patience with the chambermaid for her tardy
attendance upon her, and indulging her daily murmurs against
servants, at last emerged into the street, and took her way towards
the dwelling of Mr. Milnor. It was a bright day, and