The position was unbearable. Ethel decided instantly how to relieve it. She looked freezingly down at the forlorn-looking little intruder and said:
"The servants' quarters are at the back of the house."
"ARE they?" asked Peg, without moving, and not in any way taking the statement to refer to her.
"And I may save you the trouble of WAITING by telling you we are quite provided with servants. We do not need any further assistance."
Peg just looked at Ethel and then bent down over "MICHAEL." Ethel's last shot had struck home. Poor Peg was cut through to her soul. How she longed at that moment to be back home with her father in New York. Before she could say anything Ethel continued:
"If you insist on waiting kindly do so there."
Peg took "MICHAEL" up in her arms, collected once more her packages and walked to the windows. Again she heard the cold hard tones of Ethel's voice speaking to her:
"Follow the path to your right until you come to a door. Knock and ask permission to wait there, and for your future guidance go to the BACK door of a house and ring, don't walk unannounced into a private room."
Peg tried to explain:
"Ye see, ma'am, I didn't know. All the gentleman said was 'Go there and wait'—"