As for that Wittals, there was no bearing with _him_ either; for bad as he was before, I declare if that Duffy hadn’t so inoculated him with all the airs of a grown-up footman, that, upon my word, he seemed to think it a positive disgrace to work for his living. So I told him, very quietly, I had been turning it over in my mind, and if he had any wish to better himself, I should be very happy to exert myself to find him an excellent situation, and make it a moral duty to give him a good character, which, I said, he knew as well as I did, he didn’t deserve. And nicely I caught it for my kindness, after all; for, bother take it! he went on so shamefully in his new place, that I declare if his brute of a master didn’t begin an action against us, for _giving a servant a false character_; and we had to compromise it by paying goodness knows how much! However, I determined that this should be a lesson to me not to give any more good characters in a hurry, but to speak the truth in future. So, when that Duffy, who was out of place again six months, came to me, as thin as a German umbrella, and as meek as a pew-opener, to hope that I would look over what had past, and say a good word for him, I told him pretty plainly, “Oh, yea! I’d speak for him, and do him perfect justice, he might rest assured.” Accordingly, I just gave a plain, unvarnished statement of all his goings on, and shameful pilferings, when, of course, the party refused to have anything at all to do with him. And then, bother take it, if _he_ didn’t get some pettifogging lawyer to bring an action against us for libel (truth is a libel, Edward says)--so that, positively, this time we had to pay goodness knows how much more again for _giving a servant a true character_--drat it! This very naturally convinced me that the only safe way of acting was to refuse to give any character at all to servants. Accordingly, when that stupid, stupid cook--whom I’d little or no fault to find with, excepting that she was so taken up with Wittals and Duffy that I thought it best to give her notice to go when they did, lest she should set the new servants against their place--accordingly, I say, when she wished to know when it would suit me to see the lady with whom she was going to live, I told her that she needn’t think of sending any of her ladies to me, for I had made up my mind not to say _one_ word about her conduct either one way or the other. And then--drat that common law, which Mr. Edward will have is the perfection of common sense--we had another plaguy action brought against us, and had a third time to pay as much as would have bought us two beautiful opera pit tickets for the season, for taking the bread out of a person’s mouth, and _refusing to give a servant any character at all_.