"We had a servant, but not a general."
"A help?"
"No, we'd four servants. You see, my father suffers from gout, and he requires a lot——"
"Cook, kitchen-maid, housemaid, parlour-maid?" interrupted Amelia, ignoring my explanation.
"That was it."
Amelia put some coal on the fire, which she had relit, with a considerable amount of noise.
"No wonder you're hignorant, mum."
Amelia never leaves an "h" out, but in moments of stress occasionally puts one in. On the whole she speaks well for a Cockney born, and educated in the Mile End Road. Of course all her "a's" are "i's," but I find it difficult to transcribe them. "I tell Dimbie I know I shall pick up the vernacular as I am peculiarly imitative; and he says he hopes I won't, as it is not pretty."
"Beggin' your pardon for sayin' such a thing, but it's evidently not your fault, and p'r'aps you'll improve as time goes on. You've time to learn."
I tried to feel cheered at the hopes Amelia held out to me, and prepared to leave the kitchen, feeling a little annoyed with mother for neglecting my education so far as flue-brushes and drain-bamboos were concerned.