“Do with Bridget?” she asked. “What do you mean, Tom? Has Bridget said anything about leaving? And I was only this afternoon congratulating myself on how good she was! I declare I don’t know what this world is going to do for servants—we pay Bridget more than anyone in this town, I know we do, and treat her like one of the family, almost, and now she is going to leave! It’s discouraging! When did she tell you she was going to leave?”
“Leave?” exclaimed Mr. Fenelby. “I never thought of such a thing. I was only wondering what to do with her in—in the Commonwealth of Bobberts.”
“Oh!” cried Mrs. Fenelby, with a sigh of profound relief. She took up her sewing again, and bent her head over it. “Is that all! Of course Bridget expects to be treated like one of the family. I told her when she came that I always treated my maids as part of the family.”
“But we can’t have Bridget come in and sit with us whenever we have a session of congress,” said Mr. Fenelby.
“Certainly not!” said Mrs. Fenelby, very decidedly. “I wouldn’t think of such a thing!”
“So she can’t be a State,” said Mr. Fenelby, “and if we made her a Territory it would be as bad. She could come in and talk. She would insist on talking.”
“And if we did not let her,” said Mrs. Fenelby, “she would leave, and I know we could never get another girl as good as Bridget.”
“Now you get some idea of the hard work our forefathers had when they made the United States,” said Mr. Fenelby, rising and walking up and down the room. “But of course they had no case like Bridget. Bridget is more like a—more like the Philippines. Well!” he exclaimed, “it is a wonder I didn’t think of that in the first place!”