ked over like this."

"The best way to settle this sort of thing is at the start," replied
Mrs. Falkener, and turning to the housemaid, she asked her her name.

"Lily," replied the young woman, in a deep voice of annoyance.

"Lily," said Mrs. Falkener, as if this were a most unsuitable name for a
housemaid, and she looked up at Crane to confirm her opinion, but he was
again looking at the cook and did not notice her.

"Well, Lily," continued the elder lady, as if she made a distinct
concession in making use of such a name at all in addressing a servant,
"do you or do you not want to take this place? There is, I suppose,
nothing to compel you to take it if you do not want. But now is the time
to say so."

Lily, with a manner that did seem a little ungracious, replied that she
did want it, and added, on receiving a quick glance from the butler,
Smithfield, "Madame."

"Well, then," said Mrs. Falkener, becoming more condescending, "we shall
expect a more pleasant demeanor from you, a spirit of cooeperation.
Nothing is more trying for yourself or your fellow servants--"

Reed moved forward and whispered in Mrs. Falkener's ear:

"It will straighten out of itself, my dear madame--nothing but a little
embarrassment--a _grande dame_ like yourself, you understand me, a
tremendous impression on a young woman of this sort--"

Mrs. Falkener interrupted him.

"What is the name of the boy in the corner?" she asked.

At this, a round-faced lad of perhaps eighteen sprang forward. The most
striking items of his costume were a red neckerchief and a green baize
apron and leggings, giving to his appearance a slight flavor of a
horse-boy in an illustration to Dickens.

"I, ma'am," he said, with a strong cockney accent, "am the Useful Boy,
as they say in the States."

"He's very good at doing boots," said Reed.

"Boots," cried the boy, and kissing his hand he waved it in the air with
a gesture we have been accustomed to think of as continental rather
than British, "a boot, particularly a riding-boot, is to me--"

"What is your name?" Mrs. Falkener asked, and this time the severity of
her manner was unmistakable.

It did not, however, dampen the enthusiasm of the last candidate.

"My name, ma'am," he replied, "is B-r-i-n-d-l-e-b-u-r-y."

"Brindlebury?"

"Pronounced, 'Brinber'--the old Sussex name with which, ma'am, I have no
doubt you, as a student of history--"

Mrs. Falkener turned to Crane.

"I think you will have