‘LADY’S-MAID. Inexperienced. Age eighteen.—G., 3 Cross Street,
Budmouth.’
Owen—Owen the respectable—looked blank astonishment. He repeated in a nameless, varying tone, the two words—
‘Lady’s-maid!’
‘Yes; lady’s-maid. ‘Tis an honest profession,’ said Cytherea bravely.
‘But you, Cytherea?’
‘Yes, I—who am I?’
‘You will never be a lady’s-maid—never, I am quite sure.’
‘I shall try to be, at any rate.’
‘Such a disgrace—’
‘Nonsense! I maintain that it is no disgrace!’ she said, rather warmly. ‘You know very well—’