After dinner Mrs. Prout called. She seemed sorry to see me not looking well, and made such kind inquiries that a tear rolled down my cheek, and I told her all my trouble. She was very indignant at Phillis’s conduct, which she called abominable; and she said she would look out for a better servant for me—a woman who could behave like that was not worth her wages. I softened a little, and said she was not always so bad, of course; and when I had been so very ill, was really very attentive to me. Mrs. Prout said yes, she remembered poor Mr. Prout saying I had a rough sort of creature to wait up me, but that she seemed kind-hearted. “And, after all,” said she, “when we consider how little training such women get before they go into service, and what indistinct notions they have of their relative duties, we must make great excuses for them.” “O yes,” said I, “we must; and, perhaps, I have been too exacting.” “Well, it is possible you may have been a little so without intending it,” said she. “We are all so apt to see things only from our own point of view, and not to make sufficient allowances for others. Still, I don’t see how you can go on comfortably together, since she makes no allowances for _you_.” “Not unless she _would_ make allowances,” said I, doubtfully. “Do you wish her to stay?” “Why, yes, if she would go on comfortably; for I can’t bear strange faces, and we shall never find any one who is perfect.” “Then, shall I say a few words to her, when she lets me out?” “My dear friend,” said I, “I shall be _very_ much obliged to you!” So the kind little woman arose, after telling me that Mrs. Pevensey had reached home, and had borne the journey better than had been expected; and that Emily was to come home on Saturday. And after she had taken leave of me, I could hear her quiet voice for some time in the passage. I could also hear an indistinct grumble, grumble, grumble, from Phillis, and wondered what bad case she was making out against me. Then I heard Mrs. Prout’s quiet voice again; but the only words that reached me were, “You really should not;” and, “You really should.” Then the door closed after her, and I heard a tremendous cleaning of fire-irons going on in the kitchen, and quantities of coals shovelled up, and quantities of water pumped up; after which ensued a lull. I lay back on the sofa, and stayed my troubled mind with; “O Lord! undertake for me!” Just as it was getting quite dusk, I was startled from a little nap by a smart ring at the back-door. A distant grumbling of voices ensued; and as some suspicious-looking tramps had lately been hanging about the neighbourhood, I became nervous, and rang the bell, to desire Phillis not to parley with any people of the kind, but to shut and bolt the door. She answered the bell, looking very glum. “Who is that, Phillis?” “Some one as has come after _my_ situation. I should’t ha’ thought there’d been such a hurry!”