My sister had told me I was too polite, but one never believes one's
sister, so I questioned our sweet English friends, and they, with much
delicacy and many apologies, and the prettiest hesitation in the
world--considering the situation--told us the reason.
"But," I gasped, "if I should speak to our servants in that manner
they would leave. They would not stay over night." Our English friends
tried not to smile in a superior way, and they succeeded, only I knew
the smile was there, and said, "Oh, no, our servants never leave us.
They apologize for having done it wrong."
On the way home I plucked up courage. "I am going to try it," I said,
firmly. My sister laughed in derision.
"Now I could do it," she said, complaisantly. And so she could. My
sister never plumes herself on a quality she does not possess.
"Are you going to use the tone and everything?" I said, somewhat
timidly.
"You wait and see."
She hesitated some time, I noticed, before she rang the bell, and she
looked at herself in the glass and cleared her throat. I knew she was
bracing herself.
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