“That ‘right gal,’ according to the notions of some of ’em,” retorted Mrs. Wilkins, “’er place ain’t down ’ere among us mere mortals; ’er place is up in ’eaven with a ’arp and a golden crown. There’s my niece, Emma, I don’t say she is a saint, but a better ’earted, ’arder working gal, at twenty pounds a year, you don’t expect to find, unless maybe you’re a natural born fool that can’t ’elp yourself. She wanted a place. She ’ad been ’ome for nearly six months, nursing ’er old father, as ’ad been down all the winter with rheumatic fever; and ’ard-put to it she was for a few clothes. You ’ear ’em talk about gals as insists on an hour a day for practising the piano, and the right to invite their young man to spend the evening with them in the drawing-room. Perhaps it is meant to be funny; I ain’t come across that type of gal myself, outside the pictures in the comic papers; and I’ll never believe, till I see ’er myself, that anybody else ’as. They sent ’er from the registry office to a lady at Clapton. “‘I ’ope you are good at getting up early in the morning?’ says the lady, ‘I like a gal as rises cheerfully to ’er work.’ “‘Well, ma’am,’ says Emma, ‘I can’t say as I’ve got a passion for it. But it’s one of those things that ’as to be done, and I guess I’ve learnt the trick.’ “‘I’m a great believer in early rising,’ says my lady; ‘in the morning, one is always fresher for one’s work; my ’usband and the younger children breakfast at ’arf past seven; myself and my eldest daughter ’ave our breakfest in bed at eight.’ “‘That’ll be all right, ma’am,’ says Emma. “‘And I ’ope,’ says the lady, ‘you are of an amiable disposition. Some gals when you ring the bell come up looking so disagreeable, one almost wishes one didn’t want them.’ “‘Well, it ain’t a thing,’ explains Emma, ‘as makes you want to burst out laughing, ’earing the bell go off for the twentieth time, and ’aving suddenly to put down your work at, perhaps, a critical moment. Some ladies don’t seem able to reach down their ’at for themselves.’ “‘I ’ope you are not impertinent,’ says the lady; ‘if there’s one thing that I object to in a servant it is impertinence.’ “‘We none of us like being answered back,’ says Emma, ‘more particularly when we are in the wrong. But I know my place ma’am, and I shan’t give you no lip. It always leads to less trouble, I find, keeping your mouth shut, rather than opening it.’ “‘Are you fond of children,’ asks my lady. “‘It depends upon the children,’ says Emma; ‘there are some I ’ave ’ad to do with as made the day seem pleasanter, and I’ve come across others as I could ’ave parted from at any moment without tears.’ “‘I like a gal,’ says the lady, ‘who is naturally fond of children, it shows a good character.’ “‘How many of them are there?’ says Emma.