WILLING SERVICE
AT this unexpected solution of her great problem Mrs. Lennox recovered
herself quickly, and exclaimed:
“Oh, my dears, if you only would! But do you really mean it? Do they?”
And she looked at Aunt Molly for confirmation of an offer too good to be
true.
“I think they do,” said Aunt Molly, smiling; “and I can assure you, dear
Mrs. Lennox, that whatever these young ladies undertake will be well and
thoroughly done.”
“How can we do it?” said Nan. “Do you mean for the English ladies to
think we’re really servants?”
“Of course they must,” cried Millicent, who had waked up to the glorious
possibilities of the situation. “Unless it’s a real masquerade it’ll be
no fun at all. But where can we get the right kind of caps and aprons?”
Aunt Molly volunteered to go to town for them that very afternoon, and
Mrs. Lennox, seeing that these strange girls were really in earnest,
accepted the blessing Heaven had so unexpectedly sent her, and at once
began to make the most of it.
“Which of you are the best cooks?” she inquired, with the air of a
general marshaling his forces—but such a capable and straightforward
general that no offense could possibly be felt.
“Hester and Marjorie,” was the immediate reply of the other six.
“Very well,” said Mrs. Lennox. “Hester shall be head cook, since you
named her first, and Marjorie assistant.”
Then Jessie and Betty were selected as being the deftest waitresses, and
Millicent and Helen were declared ideal lady’s-maids. Helen preferred to
be Mrs. Lennox’s own maid, so Millicent was allotted to the English
visitors.
All agreed that Marguerite would make the most picturesque parlor-maid,
and as no other post could be thought of, Nan said she would be private
secretary and librarian.
Mrs. Lennox entered heartily into all the details of the scheme, and
agreed with Millicent that if the thing were done at all, it must be
done completely and with most careful attention to minutiæ.
“Could you submit to be spoken to as menials?” said Mrs. Lennox. “For I
am most anxious to impress my English friends with the superiority of
our servants over theirs. You would have to be modest and deferential,
address me as ‘madam,’ and both the visitors as ‘your ladyship.’”
But all this only made it seem more of a lark, and after copious
directions Mrs. Lennox went home, the eight girls promising to appear
the next afternoon at two.
That night Aunt Molly returned from the city, bringing wonderful
paraphernalia.
The waitresses were to wear white—pique skirts and linen shirt-waists;
their caps were of the conventional shape, and their aprons were
voluminous indeed, with crossed straps and broad wings, which Uncle Ned
declared could not be surpassed for acreage in all London.
The cooks were to wear white, too—linen blouses with rolled-up sleeves,
and real cooks’ caps.
The lady’s-maids wore pink and blue gingham respectively, with aprons
befrilled and beflounced, and most fetching little caps with ribbon
bows.
[Illustration: “THE GEM OF THE COLLECTION.”]
But Marguerite was pronounced “the gem of the collection.” In her plain
black dress, with a white apron of thin lawn, trimmed with a wide
accordion-plaited ruffle, and tied back with a most enormous bow, a hand
in each pocket of her apron, she looked like the coquettish parlor-maid
one sees on the stage or in the comic papers. A bewitching little cap
was jauntily perched on her fluffy golden hair, and her high-heeled
slippers clicked gaily as she tripped around.
At two o’clock precisely, on the day of the performance, the eight
presented themselves at Mrs. Lennox’s door and were admitted by that
lady herself.
“Well, you _are_ a proper-looking lot,” she exclaimed as the girls filed
in, “and you’ve taken a weight off my mind, I can tell you. When I woke
this morning I thought it was all a dream,—your coming, I mean,—and I
have not really felt sure of you until I saw you approaching. Goodness
gracious, Miss Marguerite, I think her ladyship will open her eyes at my
parlor-maid! Of course I shall call you all by your first names; they’re
rather unusual for servants, some of them, but I’ll explain that
American servants are often elaborately dubbed.”
Then the girls flew to their respective places, and work began in
earnest.
Hester and Marjorie were a bit appalled at the overflowing condition of
Mrs. Lennox’s larder; but Nan and Millicent, having nothing to do, came
to their assistance, and a really fine dinner was soon in course of
preparation.
Jessie and Betty set the table, while Marguerite gathered flowers and
decorated the various rooms until they were fragrant bowers of beauty.
Mrs. Lennox’s house was a large and luxurious mansion, exquisitely
appointed and with beautiful furnishings. Indeed, so delighted was
Marguerite with her surroundings and with the mirrored representations
of her pretty self that she almost forgot to do her work.
“Isn’t it fun?” said Jessie, as she passed the parlor door with a huge
silver-basket which Mrs. Lennox had just intrusted to her. “It’s a
delight to set a table with such lovely things.”
“How are the cooks?” said Marguerite, leaving off pirouetting before the
pier-glass and coming out to chum with the others.
But her entrance to the kitchen was not welcomed.
“Go away!” cried Marjorie. “Fly away, you butterfly. We’re really busy,
and much flustered besides.”
“You seem to be frying everything,” commented Marguerite, teasingly.
“There is a sound as of sizzling grease.”
“The crackling of grease saved Rome,” called out Hester, and Marguerite
went back giggling.
But at last everything was in readiness, and not any too soon, either;
for the door-bell rang a resounding peal. Hurriedly the servants
confabbed as to whose place it was to go to the door. In the absence of
a man-servant they concluded it was a waitress’s place; but Marguerite
settled the question by remarking that, no matter whose place it was,
_she_ would go anyhow.
Nan was ensconced in the library, Helen was with Mrs. Lennox in her
boudoir, and Millicent waiting in the guests’ apartments; but the eyes
of the other four were peering cautiously from behind doors and
portières as the pretty and audacious parlor-maid flung open the front
door with an air that would have done credit to a Lord Chamberlain.
“Mrs. Lennox?” murmured the grand lady visitor, somewhat taken aback at
the lovely vision confronting her.
“Yes, your ladyships,” said Marguerite’s pretty voice. “Will your
ladyships enter?”
She curtsied low, then ushered the visitors into the drawing-room and
presented her silver tray for cards.
“Lady Pendered and Lady Lucy Pendered,” said the elder guest, in
dignified tones; and Marguerite reddened and whipped her tray behind
her, wondering if she had made a mistake.
She thought she caught the echo of a giggling retreat to the kitchen,
but, determined to play her part as well as she could, she tripped
upstairs and announced the guests to Mrs. Lennox.
“I will go down at once,” said that lady. “Helen, my shawl.”
“Yes, madam,” said Helen, gracefully offering the dainty trifle of a
shawl; and then Mrs. Lennox sailed downstairs, and the two girls dropped
to the floor and rocked back and forth in silent paroxysms of mirth.
Then a bell summoned Helen and Millicent, and, resolutely assuming a
prim demeanor, they went downstairs side by side and presented
themselves for orders.
Although a woman of age and experience, Lady Pendered had never seen
just such lady’s-maids as these before, and she raised her lorgnon and
stared at them with perhaps pardonable curiosity.
“Millicent, attend these ladies,” said Mrs. Lennox, easily. “I trust she
will make you comfortable, Lady Pendered. Helen is my own maid, but I
beg you will command her, Lady Lucy.”
Lady Lucy Pendered was a pale, willowy girl of perhaps eighteen or
twenty, with light-blue eyes and straw-colored hair which was most
exceedingly frizzed. Millicent and Helen promptly disliked her; but with
demure deference they relieved the distinguished visitors of their wraps
and hand-bags and preceded them upstairs.
Arriving at their rooms, Lady Pendered dismissed Helen, declaring that
Mrs. Lennox must need her, and stating that she and her daughter could
easily manage with one maid. Which Millicent discovered to mean that
Lady Lucy would monopolize her services, and Lady Pendered would shift
for herself.
As a beginning, Lady Lucy reclined languidly on a couch and thrust out
her foot, which was heavily shod, after the most exaggerated English
fashion.
For a moment Millicent felt annoyed, and her face flushed deep red;
then, remembering it was a game, she threw herself into it in her own
whole-souled way, and, dropping on her knees before the pale-haired
aristocrat, she removed her heavy boots, brought her slippers and put
them on for her, and then proceeded to assist her through the
intricacies of a very elaborate toilet.
Millicent afterward confessed to Marjorie that she _did_ want to burn
the Lady Lucy’s noble forehead when she frizzed that ridiculous nest on
top of her head; but at the time she was a most exemplary lady’s-maid,
deft, patient, and willing.
Meanwhile Helen was assisting Mrs. Lennox to don her grandest attire in
honor of her titled guests, and not having to masquerade just then,
Helen and the eccentric old lady were becoming fast friends.