When the servant is ill, she is promptly despatched to the hospital; when the mistress is ill, a sister, a friend, or a nurse is called in, so that between drawing-room and kitchen there exist none of those sentiments of gratitude which might hinder the growth of that great English virtue—independence of the heart.
Of all the girls of the lower classes, servants are the most sought after for wives: and the reason is not far to seek. Generally smart-looking and well-dressed, with a little cap of lace and ribbon, that adds greatly to their comeliness, coquettishly stuck on the top of the head, and the bust generally well-developed by the exercise of the arms, these girls are much more attractive than the sluts of the English lower orders; but accustomed in service to spend their earnings upon unbecoming finery, and to waste coals they have not to pay for, they must make but very poor wives for artisans.
As I said just now that the English servant is known by her feathers, I must explain that the little lace head-dress of which I have just spoken is only worn in the house. If a servant has to go out, were it but to cross the road, she takes off her cap and puts on her hat and plumes.
Every English servant, in fact, every English girl who is not hunchbacked, has her lover, and ladies think it quite natural that she should ask permission to go walking about with him, and sweethearting one or two evenings in the week. The permission is invariably accorded, unless the “young man” happens to be a grenadier or some other red-coat in the service of Her Majesty, of whom the English lady is just as suspicious as the Parisienne is of the cousin or the pays of the French servant. You see, these fine fellows of six feet high are irresistible, with their hair parted in the middle and well plastered with pomade, with their tight trousers and their odoriferous penny cigars! Besides, in the army, there is no trifling with time: love affairs are managed much like Her Britannic Majesty’s enemies: tambour battant.
Of all the sweethearts of the domestic servant, the policeman appears to me to enjoy his good fortune the most quietly and securely. This peaceful official has admirable facilities for making a good choice. As he stalks leisurely up and down the street on duty, he is not long in discovering the prettiest pair of eyes on his beat; and one of the surest protections against burglars in London is to have a pretty servant. I can assure you the policeman will take the safety of your house to heart. He will even, in his zeal, go so far as to come and see, between ten and eleven at night, whether your door is well fastened. If you should be keeping late hours any evening, and he should perceive a glimmer of light through the venetians, his guardian of the honest and peaceful citizen will not hesitate to knock discreetly at your door. On your presenting yourself, he will apologise: “He was afraid some one might have got in.” You thank him warmly, congratulating yourself that the payment of your income tax, which is partly devoted to recompensing the policeman for his trouble, insures you the full and undisturbed enjoyment of your goods and chattels, and does away with the necessity for your sleeping with one eye open. As you watch him retire with a smile on his lips, you have no hesitation in ascribing his radiant look to the satisfaction born of a sense of duty fulfilled; and, as a Government official is always glad to have an opportunity of showing the zeal with which he accomplishes his duty, you doubt not that the worthy fellow was delighted you opened the door to him yourself, for this opportunity he would have lost if your pretty servant had gone to the door instead, and, most decidedly, it was not in the hope of seeing her that he paid you this little nocturnal visit.
It was in the month of March of last year.
I was sitting in my study reading one evening, when the door opened suddenly and my servant entered breathless.
——“Oh! sir,” she cried, “there is a burglar in the house; the policeman is below, if you would come and speak to him!”
I did not wait to be asked twice, but ran downstairs as fast as I could. The policeman was at the area door, his bull’s eye in his hand.
——“I have just seen a man on the roof of your house, sir,” said he to me. “If you will go up and watch to prevent him from getting in at the windows of the upper story, while I search the garden and go round the house, he can’t escape us.”