: that
we are forced to live with detectives, always behind us in caps or
dress-suits, ready to note every careless word, every incautious
criticism of friend or acquaintance - their money matters or their
love affairs - and who have nothing more interesting to do than to
repeat what they have heard, with embroideries and additions of
their own. Considering this, and that nine people out of ten talk
quite oblivious of their servants' presence, it is to be wondered
at that so little (and not that so much) trouble is made.
It always amuses me when I ask a friend if she is going abroad in
the spring, to have her say "Hush!" with a frightened glance
towards the door.
"I am; but I do not want the servants to know, or the horrid things
would leave me!"
Poor, simple lady! They knew it before you did, and had discussed
the whole matter over their "tea" while it was an almost unuttered
thought in your mind. If they have not already given you notice,
it is because, on the whole your house suits them well enough for
the present, while they look about. Do not worry your simple soul,
trying to keep anything from them. They know the amount of your
last dressmaker's bill, and the row your husband made over it.
They know how much you would have liked young "Croesus" for your
daughter, and the little tricks you played to bring that marriage
about. They know why you are no longer asked to dine at Mrs.
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