Matilda had been told to meet her sister, if it should be fine on this Sunday, in the Park by the Serpentine; they would walk about and then go and have an early tea at Victoria Station, whence Matilda could take a train back to Bindon's Green. They met punctually at the time appointed on the bridge, and the elder Miss Bush was filled with joy. She had missed Katherine dreadfully, as browbeating husbands are often missed by meek wives, and she was full of curiosity to hear her news. "You look changed somehow, Kitten!" she exclaimed, when they had greeted each other. "It isn't because you'd done your hair differently; you had it that way on the last day--it isn't a bit 'the look', but it suits you. No, it's not that--but you are changed somehow. Now tell me everything, dearie--I am dying to hear." "I like it," began Katherine, "and I am learning lots of things." This information did not thrill Matilda. Katherine's desire to be always learning was very fatiguing, she thought, and quite unnecessary. She wanted to hear facts of food and lodging and people and treatment, not unimportant moral developments. "Oh--well," she said. "Are they kind to you?" "Yes--I am waited on like a lady--and generally the work isn't half so heavy as at Liv and Dev's." "Tell me right from the beginning. What you do when you get up in the morning until you go to bed." Katherine complied. "I am waked at half-past seven and given a cup of tea--real tea, Tild, not the stuff we called tea at home." (A slight toss of the head from Matilda.) "The second housemaid waits on me, and pulls up my blind, and then I have my bath in the bathroom across the passage--a nice, deep hot bath." "Whatever for--every day?" interrupted Matilda. "What waste of soap and towels and things--do you like it, Kitten?" "Of course, I do--we all seem to be very dirty people to me now, Tild--with our one tub a week; you soon grow to find things a necessity. I could not bear not to have a bath every day now." Matilda snorted. "Well--and then--?" "Then I go down and have my breakfast in the secretary's room--my sitting-room, in fact. It is a lovely breakfast, with beautiful china and silver and table-linen, and when I have finished that I take my block and pencil and go up to Lady Garribardine's bedroom to take down my instructions for the day in shorthand." "Oh, Kitten, do tell me, what's her room like?" At last something interesting might be coming! "It is all pink silk and lace and a gilt bed, and numbers of photographs, and a big sofa and comfortable chairs--and when she has rheumatism she stays there and has people up to tea." "What! Folks to tea in her bedroom? Ladies, of course?" "Oh! dear no! Men, too! She has heaps of men friends; they are devoted to her." "Gentlemen in her bedroom! I do call that fast!" Matilda was frankly shocked. "Why?" asked Katherine.