Businesswomen -- Fiction; Feminist fiction; Women -- Employment -- Fiction; Women household employees -- Fiction
“Excellent! Now, I tell you what to do. I will engage all those girls.
I'm making a change at the house, for various reasons. You bring them to
me as soon as you like; but you I want at once. I wish you'd come home
with me to-night! Why don't you?”
Diantha's scanty baggage was all in sight. She looked around for an
excuse. Mrs. Weatherstone stood up laughing.
“Put the new address in the letter,” she said, mischievously, “and come
along!”
*****
And the purple chauffeur, his disapproving back ineffectual in the
darkness, rolled them home.
CHAPTER IX. “SLEEPING IN.”
Men have marched in armies, fleets have borne them,
Left their homes new countries to subdue;
Young men seeking fortune wide have wandered--
We have something new.
Armies of young maidens cross our oceans;
Leave their mother's love, their father's care;
Maidens, young and helpless, widely wander,
Burdens new to bear.
Strange the land and language, laws and customs;
Ignorant and all alone they come;
Maidens young and helpless, serving strangers,
Thus we keep the Home.
When on earth was safety for young maidens
Far from mother's love and father's care?
We preserve The Home, and call it sacred--
Burdens new they bear.
The sun had gone down on Madam Weatherstone's wrath, and risen to find
it unabated. With condensed disapprobation written on every well-cut
feature, she came to the coldly gleaming breakfast table.
That Mrs. Halsey was undoubtedly gone, she had to admit; yet so far
failed to find the exact words of reproof for a woman of independent
means discharging her own housekeeper when it pleased her.
Young Mathew unexpectedly appeared at breakfast, perhaps in anticipation
of a sort of Roman holiday in which his usually late and apologetic
stepmother would furnish the amusement. They were both surprised to find
her there before them, looking uncommonly fresh in crisp, sheer white,
with deep-toned violets in her belt.
She ate with every appearance of enjoyment, chatting amiably about the
lovely morning--the flowers, the garden and the gardeners; her efforts
ill seconded, however.
“Shall I attend to the orders this morning?” asked Madam Weatherstone
with an air of noble patience.
“O no, thank you!” replied Viva. “I have engaged a new housekeeper.”
“A new housekeeper! When?” The old lady was shaken by this inconceivable
promptness.
“Last night,” said her daughter-in-law, looking calmly across the table,
her color rising a little.
“And when is she coming, if I may ask?”
“She has come. I have been with her an hour already this morning.”
Young Mathew smiled. This was amusing, though not what he had expected.
“How extremely alert and businesslike!” he said lazily. “It's becoming
to you--to get up early!”
“You can't have got much of a person--at a minute's notice,” said his
grandmother. “Or perhaps you have been planning this for some time?”
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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