"Reely? Well, I'd best leave the letter for your missus, and she'll send an answer. Is this your first place?"
"Yes. Be you in a place?"
"My place is with the Miss Churchhills. They lives at Ivy Cottage. Real ladies born they are. I comes from London."
"You don't say so!"
The girl stared at her as if she were some foreign product.
"Yes," Peggy went on, tilting her chin in the air, "I've seen a deal o' London, too much by a long way, so I set my mind to get a place in the country, and here I am. Don't you wear no caps?"
"No," said the girl, "us don't do with them in the farms. I've a sister in proper service, and she do."
"Ah, well," said Peggy grandly, "they take a lot o' care and keepin'. My name be Margaret Perkins. What be yours?"
"Ellen Tate. My home is in the village. I only come here four months gone."
"Don't you like it?"