“Well, but there’s Miss Harriet; you never mention Miss Harriet, why shouldn’t Miss Harriet have a chance?” interposed the cook.
“Oh. Miss Harriet must wait her turn. Let her sisters be served first. They can’t all have him, you know, so it’s no use trying.”
Billy having entered the house, the ladies’ attention was now directed to Monsieur.
“What a thick, plummy man he is!” observed Benson, looking down on Rougier’s broad shoulders.
“He looks as if he got his vittles well,” rejoined Bone, wondering how he would like their lean beef and bacon fare.
“Where will he have to sleep?” asked Sally Scuttle.
“O, with the Bumbler to be sure,” replied Bone.
“Not he!” interposed Miss Benson, with disdain. “You don’t s’pose a reg’lar valley-de-chambre ‘ill condescend to sleep with a footman! You don’t know them—if you think that.”
“He’s got mouse catchers,” observed Sally Scuttle, who had been eyeing Monsieur intently.
“Ay, and a beard like a blacking brush,” whispered Bone.