The girl who had set the table came up from the kitchen.

"There is no sugar in the bowl," said Mrs. Jones sharply. "I wish
you would learn to set the table while you are about it. I'm sure I
have spoken to you often enough."

As the girl took the sugar-bowl to fill it, the frown left the face
of our hostess, and she turned to me with a bland smile, and asked
whether I used sugar and cream in my tea. I replied in the
affirmative; but did not smile in return, for I could not. I knew
the poor girl's feelings were hurt at being spoken to in such a way
before strangers, and this made me extremely uncomfortable.

"Do you call this cream?" was the angry interrogation of Mrs. Jones,
as the girl returned with the sugar, pushing towards her the
cream-jug, which she had lifted from the table as she spoke.

"Yes, ma'am," was replied.

"Look at it, and see, then."

"It's the cream," said the girl.

"If that's cream, I never want to see milk. Here! take it away and
bring me the cream."

The girl looked confused and distressed. But she took the cream-jug
and went down-stairs with it.

"That's just the way they always do!" said Mrs. Jones; leaning back
in her chair. "I really get out of all patience, sometimes."

In a little while the girl returned.

"It's the cream, ma'am, as I said. Here's the milk." And she
presented two vessels.

Mrs. Jones took both from her hands with an ill-natured jerk. Sure
enough, it was as the girl had said.

"Such cream!" fell from the lips of our hostess, as she commenced
pouring it into the cups already filled with tea.

The girl went down-stairs to take back the milk she had brought up,
but she was scarcely at the bottom of the stairs, when the bell was
rung for her.

"Why don't you stay here? What are you running off about?" said Mrs.
Jones, as she came in hurriedly. "You know I want you to wait on the
table."

And so it was during the whole meal. The girl was not once spoken to
except in a tone of anger or offensive authority.

I was no longer surprised that Mrs. Jones found it difficult to keep
good domestics, for no one of feeling can long remain with a woman
who speaks to them always in a tone of command, or who reproves them
in the presence of visitors.

My husband was very severe upon Mrs. Jones after we returned home.
"No lady," said he, "ever spoke in anger or reproof to a domestic
before a visitor or stranger. Nothing more surely evinces a vulgar
and unfeeling mind.