“‘Four of them,’ answers my lady, ‘but you won’t ’ave much to do except with the two youngest. The great thing with young children is to surround them with good examples. Are you a Christian?’ asks my lady. “‘That’s what I’m generally called,’ says Emma. “‘Every other Sunday evening out is my rule,’ says the lady, ‘but of course I shall expect you to go to church.’ “‘Do you mean in my time, ma’am,’ says Emma, ‘or in yours.’ “‘I mean on your evening of course,’ says my lady. ‘’Ow else could you go?’ “‘Well, ma’am,’ says Emma, ‘I like to see my people now and then.’ “‘There are better things,’ says my lady, ‘than seeing what you call your people, and I should not care to take a girl into my ’ouse as put ’er pleasure before ’er religion. You are not engaged, I ’ope?’ “‘Walking out, ma’am, do you mean?’ says Emma. ‘No, ma’am, there is nobody I’ve got in my mind—not just at present.’ “‘I never will take a gal,’ explains my lady, ‘who is engaged. I find it distracts ’er attention from ’er work. And I must insist if you come to me,’ continues my lady, ‘that you get yourself another ’at and jacket. If there is one thing I object to in a servant it is a disposition to cheap finery.’ “’Er own daughter was sitting there beside ’er with ’alf a dozen silver bangles on ’er wrist, and a sort of thing ’anging around ’er neck, as, ’ad it been real, would ’ave been worth perhaps a thousand pounds. But Emma wanted a job, so she kept ’er thoughts to ’erself. “‘I can put these things by and get myself something else,’ she says, ‘if you don’t mind, ma’am, advancing me something out of my first three months’ wages. I’m afraid my account at the bank is a bit overdrawn.’ “The lady whispered something to ’er daughter. ‘I am afraid, on thinking it over,’ she says, ‘that you won’t suit, after all. You don’t look serious enough. I feel sure, from the way you do your ’air,’ says my lady, ‘there’s a frivolous side to your nature.’ “So Emma came away, and was not, on the whole, too sorry.” “But do they get servants to come to them, this type of mistress, do you think, Mrs. Wilkins?” I asked. “They get them all right,” said Mrs. Wilkins, “and if it’s a decent gal, it makes a bad gal of ’er, that ever afterwards looks upon every mistress as ’er enemy, and acts accordingly. And if she ain’t a naturally good gal, it makes ’er worse, and then you ’ear what awful things gals are. I don’t say it’s an easy problem,” continued Mrs. Wilkins, “it’s just like marriages. The good mistress gets ’old of the bad servant, and the bad mistress, as often as not is lucky.” “But how is it,” I argued, “that in hotels, for instance, the service is excellent, and the girls, generally speaking, seem contented? The work is hard, and the wages not much better, if as good.”