ed Mrs. Bradford. "And I
must say I don't see why Caroline should have it when our stock is
getting so low."

"We promised to board and lodge her properly in return for her service,
and I'm going to do it," said Miss Ethel with a tightening of the lips.

"Well, no one can say she has done her fair share of the bargain; at
least, during the last few days," said Mrs. Bradford. "She seems in a
sort of dream. Here! give me a bit more of that jam before you take it
away."

"Caroline has never forgotten to bring my morning tea once since I was
ill," said Miss Ethel. "But she certainly does not seem herself now.
I don't know what is the matter with her."

"Got her head full of young men, no doubt," said Mrs. Bradford. "It
makes some girls like that, of course."

She glanced instinctively at her husband's picture, speaking as one
having first-hand information on all amatory matters.

Miss Ethel went into the kitchen where Caroline was already lifting the
kettle from the fire; but when the girl turned round, her face looked
so queer and drawn despite the colour which the wind had whipped into
her cheeks, that Miss Ethel felt sorry. Still, the barrier of "the
room door" had not been more immovably established in the consciousness
of Aunt Ellen and Aunt Creddle, than the iron law of not "talking to
the servants" in the minds of Miss Ethel and Mrs. Bradford. They had
been so trained in the idea--though, it only became general about a
hundred and fifty years ago--that when Miss Ethel now wanted to speak
of Caroline's unhappy looks as one simple, ordinary human being to
another she could not manage to do it. She meant to be kind and yet
was obliged to assume the tone and manner--throwing her voice
flute-like, as it were, across a gulf neither must cross--which her
mother had always employed in speaking to the servants.

"Oh! Caroline," she said, placing the jam on the table. "I thought
you might like some of this for your tea. It is very stormy out
to-night, is it not? I hope you have not caught cold?"

She had a habit of beginning that way--"Oh! Caroline"--when she
intended to give an order or make a request.

In making her perfunctory reply, Caroline never imagined for one moment
that her own healthy appetite was often satisfied at Miss Ethel's
expense. She had bargained for food, and food was there; and there was
an end of it. But the front-door bell rang, and something in Miss
Ethel's expression did then