As the unpolished diamond entered at this moment with a large plate of buttered toast, Miss Lillycrop changed the subject abruptly by expressing a hope that May Maylands had not to go on late duty that evening.
“Oh, no; it’s not my turn for a week yet,” said May.
“It seems to me very hard that they should work you night and day,” said Phil, who had been quietly drinking in new ideas with his tea while his cousin discoursed.
“But they don’t work us night and day, Phil,” returned May, “it is only the telegraphs that do that. We of the female staff work in relays. If we commence at 8 a.m. we work till 4 p.m. If we begin at nine we work till five, and so on—eight p.m. being our latest hour. Night duty is performed by men, who are divided into two sections, and it is so arranged that each man has an alternate long and short duty—working three hours one night and thirteen hours the next. We are allowed half-an-hour for dinner, which we eat in a dining-hall in the place. Of course we dine in relays also, as there are above twelve hundred of us, male and female.”
“How many?” asked George Aspel in surprise.
“Above twelve hundred.”
“Why, that would make two pretty fair regiments of soldiers,” said Aspel.
“No, George,” said Phil, “it’s two regiments of pretty fair soldiers that they’d make.”
“Can’t you hold your tongue, man, an’ let May talk?” retorted Aspel.
“So, you see,” continued May, “that amongst us we manage to have the telegraphic communication of the kingdom well attended to.”