Lily, with a manner that did seem a little ungracious, replied that she did want it, and added, on receiving a quick glance from the butler, Smithfield, "Madame." "Well, then," said Mrs. Falkener, becoming more condescending, "we shall expect a more pleasant demeanor from you, a spirit of coöperation. Nothing is more trying for yourself or your fellow servants--" Reed moved forward and whispered in Mrs. Falkener's ear: "It will straighten out of itself, my dear madame--nothing but a little embarrassment--a _grande dame_ like yourself, you understand me, a tremendous impression on a young woman of this sort--" Mrs. Falkener interrupted him. "What is the name of the boy in the corner?" she asked. At this, a round-faced lad of perhaps eighteen sprang forward. The most striking items of his costume were a red neckerchief and a green baize apron and leggings, giving to his appearance a slight flavor of a horse-boy in an illustration to Dickens. "I, ma'am," he said, with a strong cockney accent, "am the Useful Boy, as they say in the States." "He's very good at doing boots," said Reed. "Boots," cried the boy, and kissing his hand he waved it in the air with a gesture we have been accustomed to think of as continental rather than British, "a boot, particularly a riding-boot, is to me--" "What is your name?" Mrs. Falkener asked, and this time the severity of her manner was unmistakable. It did not, however, dampen the enthusiasm of the last candidate. "My name, ma'am," he replied, "is B-r-i-n-d-l-e-b-u-r-y." "Brindlebury?" "Pronounced, 'Brinber'--the old Sussex name with which, ma'am, I have no doubt you, as a student of history--" Mrs. Falkener turned to Crane. "I think you will have trouble with that boy," she said. "He is inclined to be impertinent." Crane looked at the boy over her head, and the boy, out of a pair of twinkling gray eyes, looked back. They both managed to look away again before a smile had been actually exchanged, but Crane found himself making use for the third time of his favorite formula: "Oh, I think I'll find him all right." Mrs. Falkener, remembering the pitiable weakness of men, again waved her hand. "They may go now," she said to Reed, who hastily shepherded the four back again into the back office. When they were alone, she turned to Crane and said with the utmost conviction: "My dear Burton, none of those servants will do--except the butler, who appears to be a thoroughly competent person. But those young women--they may have been anything. Did you not observe that their nails had been manicured?" Crane stammered slightly, for the fact had not escaped him, in connection, at least, with one of the young women. "Don't--don't cooks ever manicure their nails?" he said. "It seems rather a good idea to me." Reed, who was once more approaching, caught these last words. "Ah," he said, "you were speaking of the manicuring of servants' nails--" Mrs. Falkener gave him a severe look.