"And besides——" continued Bertha.
"She tyrannises over the lower servants, such as Lenchen and me." Barbara laughed heartily at Martha's sallies, but Bertha "had an attack of dignity," as Barbara put it, and said to Martha: "Come now, who was in Auntie Majesty's confidence, you or I?"
"Fraulein certainly had the run of Her Majesty's rooms, and I do hope they were nicer and cleaner than Fraulein's," bristled up Martha.
"Don't quarrel," pleaded Barbara. "Soon it will be eleven, and then both of you will shout 'bed' until you are hoarse. Do go on, Bertha, and don't you dare interrupt her again, Martha."
"Well," said Bertha, "I promised——" She settled down in the big velvet fauteuil nearest the fire and assumed an oldish mien.
"I was sometimes present when the Baroness and Auntie Majesty discussed new frocks and hats," she continued, "and I think if Mamma was in Madame von H.'s place, Her Majesty would be—what shall I say?—more tastefully dressed.
"Once she persuaded Auntie Majesty to accept a hat that made her look seventy to a day: Gold lace and heliotrope velvet. I will buy Granny one like it next time I go to Düsseldorf. At first Auntie did not seem to care for it at all, but the Baroness made such a fuss. 'Majesty looks enchanting,' she kept saying."
Here Martha dropped the courtliest of curtsies, "flapping her arms like wings"—Barbara's description.
"'Charming,' 'ever youthful,' continued Bertha, imitating the Baroness.
"The right sort of talk too," said Martha. "Tell a woman of our age—mine and Auntie Majesty's—that we look like sweet sixteen, with a teapot for a bonnet, and we will wear it even at the opera."