In France, a servant is recognised by her little clean and coquettish-looking muslin cap; here she is known rather by her feathers. The Frenchwoman of the lowest classes has the love of linen, it is her ambition to have her cupboards full of it; not so the Englishwoman, she ignores it: while she is washing her chemise, she has none to put on her body. The French servant, in the provinces at all events, puts by her wages, so as to be able one day to retire to her native village and live on her little income. The English servant spends her modest wages on feathers, furs and furbelows of all sorts. It is in the blood. A French lady of my acquaintance had a young housemaid, in whom she took an interest. Seeing that the girl spent all her earnings on worthless finery, and that the remonstrances she addressed to her on the subject produced no effect, she wrote to the mother, begging her to give her daughter some good advice: "Your daughter may perhaps one day marry some steady workman: you should teach her to be economical and careful," said she. The mother came in a furious state. "Mind your own business," cried she to my friend; "my daughter is as good as you, I suppose. Can't she be free to spend her money as she likes? I wonder what next! She does your work and doesn't interfere with your affairs! It's a pity you don't stay in your parlour and leave the kitchen alone." And this excellent mother, indignant, immediately took her daughter away. In England, servants must be kept at a distance if you care in the least for your comfort; you give them their orders, you do not talk to them.