“Mrs. Sargent says that all these unnecessary demands have been instituted and insisted upon by women,” said Alexandra.  “She says that the secret of the whole trouble is that women try to live above their class, and make one servant appear to do the work of three—­”

The introduction of Mrs. Sargent’s name was not a happy one.

“Ellen Sargent,” said Mrs. Salisbury icily, “is not a lady herself, in the true sense of the word, and she does very well to talk about class distinctions!  She was his stenographer when Cyrus Sargent married her, and the daughter of a tannery hand.  Now, just because she has millions, I am not going to be impressed by anything Ellen Sargent does or says!”

“Mother, I don’t think she meant quality by ‘class,’” Sandy protested.  “Everyone knows that Grandfather was General Stanford, and all that!  But I think she meant, in a way, the money side of it, the financial division of people into classes!”

“We won’t discuss her,” decided Mrs. Salisbury majestically.  “The money standard is one I am not anxious to judge my friends by!”

Still, with the rest of the family, Mrs. Salisbury was relieved when Lizzie, shortly after this, decided of her own accord to accept a better-paid position.  “Unless, Mama says, you’d care to raise me to seven a week,” said Lizzie, in parting.

“No, no, I cannot pay that,” Mrs. Salisbury said firmly and Lizzie accordingly left.

Her place was taken by a middle-aged French woman, and whipped cream and the subtle flavor of sherry began to appear in the Salisbury bills of fare.  Germaine had no idea whatever of time, and Sandy perforce must set the table whenever there was a company dinner afoot, and lend a hand with the last preparations as well.  The kitchen was never really in order in these days, but Germaine cooked deliciously, and Mrs. Salisbury gave eight dinners and a club luncheon during the month of her reign.  Then the French woman grew more and more irregular as to hours, and more utterly unreliable as to meals; sometimes the family fared delightfully, sometimes there was almost nothing for dinner.  Germaine seemed to fade from sight, not entirely of her own volition, not really discharged; simply she was gone.  A Norwegian girl came next, a good-natured, blundering creature whose English was just enough to utterly confuse herself and everyone else.  Freda’s mistakes were not half so funny in the making as Alexandra made them in anecdotes afterward; and Freda was given to weird chanting, accompanying herself with a banjo, throughout the evenings.  Finally a blonde giant known as “Freda’s cousin” came to see her, and Kane Salisbury, followed by his elated and excited boys, had to eject Freda’s cousin early in the evening, while Freda wept and chattered to the ladies of the house.  After that the cousin called often to ask for her, but Freda had vanished the day after this event, and the Salisburys never heard of her again.