"It's not outside they get the first news, is it?" the laundress inquired.
Apparently the maid was also going to make a remark, but she changed her mind as the cook again came to the dumb-waiter with the dish of little silver saucepans containing terrapin.
The valet was somewhat puzzled by the failure of his two attempts to open the family cupboard of the host and hostess for an inspection of the skeletons it might contain.
"I don't know how she has them seated at the table," Maggie declared.
"Of course, his lordship took her in," the Englishman declared. "A earl 'as precedence of a judge or a bishop."
"I'd like to have a look at that lordship of yours," the Irishwoman said, as she rose to her feet. "I'll slip up the stairs there, and maybe I can get a glimpse of 'em through the door an' no one a ha'p'orth the wiser. Is it a young man your lordship is?"
"His lordship is a young man yet," the valet replied.
"I know what that means," the laundress answered. "If he's a young man yet, I'll go bail he hasn't a hair between him an' heaven. An' to think that our Miss Ethel here is to take up with a poor hairless cratur like that. Well, well, there's no accountin' for tastes! Maybe I'll marry a Dutchman myself one of these days."
And with that she began to climb the spiral staircase in the corner of the room.
"What sort of a man is he, your milord?" asked the Frenchwoman.