FAITH enters and stands beside COOK, close to the door. MARY goes
out.
MRS MARCH. [Matter of fact in defeat as in victory] You want to come to
us, I hear.
FAITH. Yes.
MRS MARCH. And you don't know much?
FAITH. No.
COOK. [Softly] Say ma'am, dearie.
MRS MARCH. Cook is going to do her best for you. Are you going to do
yours for us?
FAITH. [With a quick look up] Yes--ma'am.
MRS MARCH. Can you begin at once?
FAITH. Yes.
MRS MARCH. Well, then, Cook will show you where things are kept, and how
to lay the table and that. Your wages will be thirty until we see where
we are. Every other Sunday, and Thursday afternoon. What about dresses?
FAITH. [Looking at her dress] I've only got this--I had it before, of
course, it hasn't been worn.
MRS MARCH. Very neat. But I meant for the house. You've no money, I
suppose?
FAITH. Only one pound thirteen, ma'am.
MRS MARCH. We shall have to find you some dresses, then. Cook will take
you to-morrow to Needham's. You needn't wear a cap unless you like.
Well, I hope you'll get on. I'll leave you with Cook now.
After one look at the girl, who is standing motionless, she goes
out.
FAITH. [With a jerk, as if coming out of plaster of Paris] She's never
been in prison!
COOK. [Comfortably] Well, my dear, we can't all of us go everywhere,
'owever 'ard we try!
She is standing back to the dresser, and turns to it, opening the
right-hand drawer.
COOK. Now, 'ere's the wine. The master likes 'is glass. And 'ere's the
spirits in the tantaliser 'tisn't ever kept locked, in case Master Johnny
should bring a friend in. Have you noticed Master Johnny? [FAITH nods]
Ah! He's a dear boy; and wonderful high-principled since he's been in
the war. He'll come to me sometimes and say: "Cook, we're all going to
the devil!" They think 'ighly of 'im as a poet. He spoke up for you
beautiful.
FAITH. Oh! He spoke up for me?
COOK. Well, of course they had to talk you over.
FAITH. I wonder if they think I've got feelings.
COOK. [Regarding her moody, pretty face] Why! We all have feelin's!
FAITH. Not below three hundred a year.
COOK. [Scandalised] Dear, dear! Where were you educated?
FAITH. I wasn't.
COOK. Tt! Well--it's wonderful what a change there is in girls since my
young days [Pulling out a drawer] Here's the napkins. You change the
master's every day at least because of his moustache and the others every
two days, but always clean ones Sundays. Did you keep Sundays in there?
FAITH. [Smiling] Yes. Longer chapel.
COOK. It'll be a nice change for you, here. They don't go to Church;
they're agnosticals. [Patting her shoulder] How old are you?
FAITH. Twenty.
COOK. Think of that--and such a life! Now, dearie, I'm your friend.
Let the present bury the past--as the sayin' is. Forget all about
yourself, and you'll be a different girl in no time.
FAITH. Do you want to be a different woman?
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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