She had scarcely seated herself behind the counter, when the bell rang again, and this time the customer appeared to be a servant-girl. In spite of her tawdry dress, Mona took a fancy to her face at once, the more so as it did not seem to bespeak a very critical mind. In fact, it was the customer who was ill at ease on this occasion, and who waited shyly to be spoken to. "What can I do for you?" asked Mona. "I want a new haat." Only for one moment had Mona thoughts of referring her to the nearest clergyman. Then she realised the situation. "Oh!" she said. This was still a heavy responsibility. "Do you know exactly what you want, or would you like to see what we can suggest?" "I'd like tae see what ye've got." "Is the hat for week-days or for Sundays?" "For the Sabbath. Miss Simpson had some big red roses in the window a while back. I thocht ane or twa o' them wad gang vera weel wi' this feather." Mona took the small paper parcel in her hand, and gave her attention as completely to its contents as she had ever done to a microscopic section. It had been an ostrich-feather at some period of its existence, but it bore more resemblance to a herring-bone now. "Yes," she said tentatively. "The feather would have to be done up. But don't you think it is rather a pity to have both flowers and feathers in one hat?" The girl looked aghast. This was heresy indeed. "The feather's gey thin by itsel'," she said, "but if it was half covered up wi' the flowers, it'd look more dressed like." Mona looked at the feather, then at the girl, and then she relapsed into profound meditation. "Are you a servant?" she asked presently. "Ay." "Here in Borrowness?" "Na; I've come in for the day tae see my mither. I'm scullery-maid at the Towers." "What a pass things must have come to," thought Mona, "that even a scullery-maid should be allowed to dress like this in a good house!" "The Towers!" she said aloud. "You have been very lucky to get into such a place. Why, if you do your best to learn all you can, you will be a first-rate cook some day." The girl beamed. "You know," Mona went on reflectively, "a really first-class London servant would think it beneath her to wear either feathers or flowers. She would have a neat little bonnet like this"--she picked out one of the few desirable articles in the shop--"and she would have it plainly trimmed with a bit of good ribbon or velvet--so!" She twisted a piece of velvet round the front of the bonnet and put it on her own head. Surmounting her trim gown, with its spotless collar and cuffs, the bonnet looked very well, and to Mona's great surprise it appealed even to the crude taste of her customer. "It's gey stylish," said the girl, "an' I suppose it'd come a deal cheaper?"