"I have never been in service before—my lady."
"My word! That's bad. However, you're on the spot, and Lady Kilmarny recommends you. The poor Princess was going to try you, it seems. I should think she wouldn't have given much for a maid without any experience."
"I was to have had two thousand francs a year as the Princess's com—if the Princess was satisfied."
"Preposterous! I don't believe a word of it. Why, what can you do? Can you dress hair? Can you make a blouse?"
"I did my mother's hair, and sometimes my cousin's."
"Your mother! Your cousin! I'm talking of a lidy."
My sense of humour did almost fail me just then. But I caught hold of it by the tail just as it was darting out of the window, spitting and scratching like a cross cat.
It was remembering Monsieur Charretier that brought me to my bearings. "I think your ladyship would be satisfied," I said. "And I make all my own dresses."
"That one you've got on?—which is most unsuitable for a maid, I may tell you, and I should never permit it."
"This one I have on, also."