a boarder! Next, they'll be asking for a place at the table and an
hour's practice on the piano."

"Well, the original American servant, the 'neighbor's girl,' who
came in to help during the haying season, and to put up the
preserves, probably did have a place at the table," Mr. Salisbury
submitted mildly.

"Mother thinks that America never will have a real servant class,"
Owen added uncertainly; "that is, until domestic service is elevated
to the--the dignity of office work, don't you know? Until it
attracts the nicer class of women, don't you know? Mother says that
many a good man's fear of old age would be lightened, don't you
know?--if he felt that, in case he lost his job, or died, his
daughters could go into good homes, and grow up under the eye of
good women, don't you know?"

"Very nice, Owen, but not very practical!" Mrs. Salisbury said, with
her indulgent, motherly smile. "Oh, dear me, for the good old days
of black servants, and plenty of them!" she sighed. For though Mrs.
Salisbury had been born some years after the days of plenty known to
her mother on her grandfather's plantation, before the war, she was
accustomed to detailed recitals of its grandeurs.

"Here we are!" said Alexandra, finding a particular page that was
boldly headed "Terms."

"'For a cook and general worker, no other help,' she read, "'thirty
dollars per month--'"