I shall accept it, since it is the proper quarter for seeing the high-toned New Yorker.
I feel already a servant feeling.
I am sorry that I didn’t discipline myself before in dusting.
I will style me an honest worker for awhile. “Toiling for my daily bread,” does ring an American sound, doesn’t it?
“Domestic girl has no right, I think, to sit with Messrs. Consul and Secretary,” I said, moving my dinner plate to the kitchen table.
Morning Glory, isn’t it time you changed the book of your diary?
Really, sir!
Let me close now with a ceremonious bow!
My next book shall be entitled:
“The Diary of a Parlour Maid.”