The rich and self-important woman of the home was deciding on Christmas presents along with her maid.
“What ought to we get for the butler?” she requested in her common condescending tone.
The maid, preserving her composure, advised, “Maybe a pleasant set of wine glasses?”
The girl scoffed. “Wine glasses? How absurd. He’s a butler, not a bunch. A tie will suffice.”
Suppressing a watch roll, the maid moved on. “What about Jenny, the serving lady? Perhaps a brand new gown for her?”
The girl snorted, waving the thought away. “A gown? For Jenny? She’d solely damage it. Get her one other apron—one thing sensible.”
And so the dialog continued, with the girl dismissing considerate options in favor of low cost, impersonal presents. The maid’s endurance wore skinny, however she stored her irritation hidden till they got here to the subject of the girl’s husband.
“And for Mr. Wilton?” the maid requested, her tone simply shy of sarcastic. “Absolutely you’ll need to give him one thing he actually wants?”
The girl straightened, her sense of superiority as sharp as ever. “After all. Mr. Wilton deserves solely the very best.”
The maid’s lips curled right into a candy, realizing smile. “Then maybe three extra inches?”
For a break up second, the room fell silent. The girl’s icy composure cracked simply sufficient to disclose her shock, however earlier than she might reply, the maid had already turned again to her duties, her smirk unmistakable.
