Jones confronted a stately creature as she stepped into the hall.
“Look here, young woman, who are you?”
“I’m Miss Doolan, and I’m stopping at Judson’s—as housemaid,” she answered, so taken aback that for the moment her self-possession failed her.
“And to whom have you been telephoning?”
“To Blair’s—Judge Blair’s, over on the avenue—a friend of mine stops there.”
“And are you in the habit of calling up ladies in that fashion?”
“It’s a very good fashion, for all I can see,” she retorted impudently.
“And what business have you to order an answer sent here for me to carry on a night like this?”
“Mrs. Judson and me took you for a gentleman, sor, and we thought you wouldn’t mind obliging ladies.”
“Nor do I, but I don’t know either Mrs. Judson or you, and I don’t propose running errands for you.”