“And now perhaps you’ll tell me what on earth I’m to do for a substitute. I don’t know of a single girl in this neighborhood who could come in and help.”
“I have it. I can save the situation. I have an idea. On the 16th inst., at Jawbones, Halfpenny Hole, Surrey, Mr. Luke Sharper, of an idea. Both doing well.”
“Would you mind telling me what you are talking about?”
“I’m talking about old Vessunt. He’s a foreman. Up at the factory. Fine old chap. Religious but quite honest. He’s got a daughter, Effie. Very superior girl. And she’s looking for a job. I can get her for you to-morrow morning. Effie Vessunt. Rather bright and sparkling, what?”
“At any rate, I can see her.”
“You can, even with the naked eye. But I say, you know, she really is rather superior. She’ll have to have her meals with us.”
“If I engage her, she will feed in the kitchen.”
“Mabel, must you always disagree with me? Have you no spirit of compromise? Can’t you meet me half way in a little thing like this?”
“If I met you half way the girl would have her meals in the passage. And I don’t suppose she’d like it, and anyhow she’d be in everybody’s way.”
“And this when I’ve just been of real use to you.”