Story: It Wasn't Right. Epilogue.

by Jackie J

Epilogue

Richard said it wasn’t right, that we did not need a maid, and in truth, we didn’t, with many rooms unused, I have managed adequately after letting my maid Linda go.  Richard was reluctant but I convinced him that, if not for us, then for when and if the Mistress returns, Miss Millicent. We would have to leave Crestley House if she returned, and she would require an established and competent maid wouldn’t she.

A strong marriage holds no secrets, but it was not yet the time and perhaps it never will be, to inform my husband who the maid I have hired actually once was. However, it was worth letting Richard know that should Miss Millicent ever return we would be made to leave the luxury of Crestley House. A magnificent residence that we have come to treat like our own.

Milly arrived much as I believed she would. Settled into the maid’s quarters and dressed, in the new uniform’s that I had organised for her, I am genuinely impressed by her competence and servility. Two months my maid and I have no complaint. Milly pays due deference, the House is kept spotless, the laundry is never an issue, and our meals are prepared to the highest standard. Miss Millicent Williams, the former Mistress of Crestley House she may be, but I must admit, she makes the prefect maid. My late friend Agnes Burtonshaw having trained and conditioned her well for her new role in life.

I have kept the portrait of Miss Millicent Williams, that hangs at the end of the entrance hall. Bejewelled with golden flowing hair over her shoulders, fine features with a flawless complexion and smiling eyes. Not for any reason other than I did admire her before she chose a path to her social downgrade. I may despise Miss Millicent now, for what she dd to herself, but I no less admire the maid she now is.

During the last few months, I have purposely invited people to Crestley House for lunch, or in the evenings for dinner, who would have known Miss Millicent, not overly well admittedly. I doubt anyone knew Miss Millicent that well, apart from those she worked with, before selling the company. However, those invited, I knew to have met and conversed with Miss Millicent.  None have paid my curtsying maid any attention beyond that deserving of any domestic servant. The once Mistress of Crestley House, dowdy, aproned and hidden in clear site, perfect, the maid of Crestley House, Milly Brannigan.

Story: It Wasn't Right. Chapter 14.

by Jackie J

Two days since the funeral for Agnes Burtonshaw and the mourners who came and stayed at Sycamores have all departed including my housekeeper, Janice. Having revealed all to my housekeeper, the night of the funeral, she left the following morning without a word. Promising to help me, she was to find away and make the necessary arrangements to get me back to Crestley House. Sweeping out the rear yard of the hostel I smile to myself. “Making necessary arrangements”, no doubt Janice will have made good use of Crestley House in my absence, especially if she thought it doubtful that I would be returning, thinking me married and settled in some foreign land. Arrangements yes, she will no doubt be returning things back to how they were before my return.

Janice made haste back to Crestley House the morning after the funeral what she had found out about her Mistress, Miss Millicent Williams, could change everything. What would she tell Richard, her husband of only three months. Richard Williams had moved to the area taking over as bank manager at the bank used by her mistress, and which Janice, following Miss Millicent’s departure, was obliged to visit. Richard took a shine to Janice having helped her in resolving the anomalies left by the instructions from her travelling mistress. Flattered by the attention, not long into their relationship Janice suggested that Richard leave his cramped rented accommodation and move into Crestley House, which he did. Their love blossomed, and they eventually tied the knot, Crestley House had become the home of Mr and Mrs Williams. How could she explain that her absent mistress had not married and settled overseas but had quite willingly taken the apron to become a common maid, had become a common maid, with a new identity and, with her own collusion, disenfranchised herself from her wealth. By the time Janice was on the last leg of her journey home, she was wishing she had not attended Agnes funeral and never met up with her once Mistress.

Story: It Wasn't Right. Chapter 13.

by Jackie J

Having been seen, whilst bedded by Mr Rogerson, in such a wanton fashion, the moral high ground I may have clung to, is gone now for sure. A lady of wealth and position, a lady like Miss Millicent Williams, would never have given herself in such a way, no matter what the circumstances. It is strangely comforting to accept that it was the maid Milly Brannigan who aroused and took Rogerson’s passion.  A moment of weakness? Caught at a low emotional ebb?  So why, for the third night running, am I still sharing his bed. I know it wasn’t right, I know it isn’t right, but it is what it is.

I had never linked my desires for the apron and its associated subjugation and servitude with sex, not until I had laid with Daniel these past days. Daniel is not a handsome man by any means, and his personal hygiene leaves much to be desired. There is no tenderness in his manner or touch, taking me roughly and at his will. Allowing one so uncouth, to take unconditional possession of me and use me in such an intimate way, bringing new emotions and imaginings for my perverse cravings for debasement. Whilst tempting to continue to take his seed within me, I am now mindful to enforce the rhythm method, but always make good by slobbering and sucking him clean until drained and flaccid.

Miss Elizabeth, engaged in getting to grips with the running of Mayfair Domestic Services and preparing for the funeral of Agnes, I am instructed, until matters are settled, to return to being the maid at Sycamores.

The tragedy on the river Thames, which took Agnes to meet her maker, is the subject of a coroner’s inquiry and Agnes’s funeral is delayed.  I have now returned to living in my own room, Daniel, well back to Mr Rogerson now, decided he had enough of his harlot, he had his reputation to think of.

Story: It Wasn't Right. Chapter 12.

by Jackie J

Thursday, I call dress down day for Miss Margret. Each Thursday Mistress has business to attend to in the city. Rather plain clothing for a lady of such standing, but the nature of her business requires such, and it is not my place to pry. Having inquired once, and having been severely punished, I know better than to inquire of my Mistresses’ business.

Miss Elizabeth is on time to collect Mistress. Miss Elizabeth, a large and well-spoken lady, now manages Mayfair Domestic Services and from the conversations I have fleetingly overheard, the business is expanding and thriving thanks to the investments made by my Mistress, Miss Margret.

With Mistress and Miss Elizabeth having left Poplars, walking into the kitchen, I contemplate what to prepare for them when they return.  Miss Elizabeth likes my cherry buns, and she did ask for them the previous Thursday. Mistress and Miss Elizabeth are rarely back at Poplars until late afternoon, so I have time to shop and still bake the buns.

The clock in the hall chimes seven, then eight, then nine, Mistress is never this late and I start to worry. A sharp banging of the door knocker makes me jump and I hurry down the hallway to answer the door.

A Tragedy. The ferry from Tower bridge to Greenwich capsized. Five survivors, my Mistress, Miss Margret, Agnes Burtonshaw, not one of them.

Shock, filling my senses at the unthinkable, I stare at a tearful Miss Elizabeth in disbelieve at the news, then collapse in a heap on the hallway tiles.

Story: The Bridge Player

Inspired by the classic 1960s Bunty cartoon, The Imposter. Please welcome a new blog contributor, George. 

The bridge player

By George (G.T.)

Victoria Perkins lived in a small country mansion with her parents. She came home from a private boarding school just two weeks ago. She had barely seen her parents for years. In addition to them, the house was inhabited by a butler, a cook, a housekeeper, and a maid. With the exception of the young maid, all employees were at least fifty years old.

Someone knocked on her door in the morning. The maid asked permission to come in to put a fire in the fireplace. Victoria didn't want to get out of the good warm bed into the cold room. She watched the maid work. Her black dress reached to her ankles. The sleeve of the dress ended in a tight white cuff at the wrists. She had a tight white neck strap around her neck all the way to her chin. Maid Mary was embroidered on it. A white maid's hat covered her hair. She wore simple little hoop earrings in her ears. Her white apron reached almost to her neck. Two wide shoulder straps go to the apron's back. In the back she tied the apron around her waist with a big bow. Anyway, Mary was like her. The girl's age, stature, face, even eyes were similar to Victoria's. There was only one difference. Mary's hair is straight and Victoria's curly. Victoria knew this from the fact that Mary's cap had once fallen as she scrubbed the stone in the hallway. The housekeeper immediately struck her with a wand from punishment.

Story: It Wasn't Right. Chapter 10.

by Jackie J

My duties for the day finished I sit on my bunk and remove my boots with a sigh. Instinctive now, I wipe the boots down and polish them back to a shine. A maid must never be seen with dirty or dull boots. I chuckle to myself at the disciplines, like the cleaning of my boots, that I have adopted over these past months, whilst indulging my fantasy to be a working maid. Pretence at the outset for sure, but now such traits have become second nature, the curtsy, my lowered gaze, speaking only when spoken to, doing what I am told, when I am told, how I am told, without question. After years of making decisions, guiding my own destiny, these past months I have been freed of all such burdens, living a simple, respectful, submissive, almost anonymous existence to which I have become accustomed and accepted. A life, despite the privations that I have experienced, I cannot help myself from still wanting to live.

Stripped and washed I lay on my bunk in thought.

Not for the first time, I consider how fortunate I was to have been found like I was at Crestley House by the temporary housekeeper, Mrs Burtonshaw? Fate, I guess. I paid her well for what she did with me, to me, keeping me aproned like she did, having me for her maid. Then organising for me to become one of her Mayfair maids, finding me a position at Bracken Hall a common maid. giving me a new identity, Milly Brannigan, how well she understood, understands my strange desires. Even earlier today, before she left, although my time a maid almost at an end, putting me in my place.

“Mrs Burtonshaw or Miss to the likes of you Milly Brannigan.”

Story: It Wasn't Right. Chapter 9.

by Jackie J

I don’t sleep well; I don’t sleep well at all.  For a second night I cannot get Lady Carrington, and how she makes me feel, out of my thoughts. I have to force myself to remind myself of who I actually am, who I really am. This isn’t right, I know it isn’t right, I know this must stop, I must get back to Crestley House, get back to my life or I will surely lose my mind?  

Jenny is already awake and getting dressed and soon, so am I. Boots to my feet I stand and tie the tapes of my apron into a neat bow at the base of my back. Whatever my denials and mental torment of the previous night, swathed in my cocoon of servility, my waking thoughts are only those of Milly the maid, Milly Brannigan.  Morning trays are prepared in the kitchens and, Rosy and I deliver morning tea to each of the guests’ rooms. I collect my last tray and standing outside Lady Carrington’s room I knock, enter, and curtsy.

“Your morning tea ladies.”

Story: It Wasn't Right. Chapter 8.

by Jackie J

The letters that Mrs Burtonshaw had her maid Milly write duly arrived at their addresses.

Janice, having spent the past week preparing Crestley House for her Mistresses return, read the letter she had received with mixed emotions.  Disappointed her Mistress would not be returning but pleased that she had met someone. No detail but travelling abroad sounded as if at last it was a relationship that could lead to something permanent. Provision had been made with the bank for her to access additional funds and, with no mention of when her Mistress would return, Janice reconciled that she would just have to wait until she did.

The bank manager, on receiving Miss William letter, instructed his assistant to make the necessary arrangements and prepare a letter of authority for Miss Janice Renwick. Whilst giving her housekeeper access to her main accounts, he trusted that Miss Williams knew what she was doing and, with little concern, he would be retiring at the end of the month anyway, filed away the correspondence. 

Any reservations that I may have held about remaining a maid at Bracken Hall are forgotten settling the arriving guests for the gala weekend into their rooms with Rosy.

Story: It Wasn't Right. Chapter 7.

by Jackie J

After dinner the Master and Mistress of Bracken Hall were talking in the parlour and James was anxious to know how preparations for the gala were progressing, it was just over a week away.

Lucinda sighed.

“Well, the Jacksons won’t be with us this year they are travelling, and Patricia is doubtful but everyone else responded, so a full house all the same. I have one fly in the ointment that I am trying to resolve. Madeley still hasn’t found a replacement maid, and the temporary maid from Mayfair, Milly, leaves at the end of the week. I have told Madeley that we can’t be short staffed for the gala weekend, and I am hopeful of keeping this temporary maid here. Milly is good, in fact very good, according to Madeley, what do you think of her?”

James tops up his whiskey from the decanter.

“Can’t say I know the woman, our maids all look the bloody same to me, devoid of personality, yes Sir, no Sir, like penguins in their uniforms about their work. I know Gwyneth and Betty of course but they are different, I rarely see the others.”

Lucinda takes the opportunity to have a dig at her husband about the amount of time he spends away from the hall.

Story: It Wasn't Right. Chapter 5.

by Jackie J

The large envelope nervously opened, and the contents laid out on my desk, I notice the same letterhead used for the confirmation of Mrs Burtonshaw to be my temporary housekeeper, Mayfair Domestic Services, any similarity to that previous correspondence ends there. No detail of Mrs Burtonshaw working for me, but of myself, well Miss Brannigan, working for her. All very formal and detailed.  I sit back and read the main letter.

Dear Miss Brannigan,

Following the completion of your service for Miss Williams, at Crestley House, and your wish to become one of our maids, I write to inform you that your application to join Mayfair Domestic Services was successful and your maid registration is now complete. Your registration certificate is enclosed along with your identification disc which you will wear at all times whilst in service.

Your first assignment is at Bracken Hall, being employed for general maid duties. You will report on the sixth of October to the housekeeper, Mrs Madeley. The address you will find on your letter of introduction, which is enclosed. I need not remind you of the high standards that are expected of you, of all Mayfair domestic servants, of which you are now one. Your contract at Bracken Hall is for one month, and I will expect favourable reports when your time there is concluded. Don’t let me down Milly.

Story: A Lady and Her Maid. Chapter 8.

by Jackie J

Chapter 8

Maud had sat in her room for some time, having been sent there by her mistress. Why she had not been allowed to answer the door had seemed strange, but it was what her Mistress wanted.

When the call bell eventually rang Maud was quick to her feet and passing through the kitchen she noted the signal had come from the parlour. Before going through to her Mistress she filled the kettle and slid it onto the stove in anticipation. Maud’s anticipation was rewarded: her Mistress requested tea for herself and her guest. Lady Summerfield’s sister no less. Why did the lady visitor look familiar? It was strange but she did. The tea served, Maud wondered if she should return to her room or continue with the day’s tasks. The work would not do itself and she returned to her cleaning in the dining room. Disturbed again by the call bell, she was back to the parlour. 

There was a weak smile on Maud’s face when she left her mistress. Lady Summerfield’s sister was to stay over at the manor. Maud had cleaned the guest rooms many times but there had never been a guest staying in any of them. The master guest room was the grandest of them and it was an excited maid that headed up the broad stairs to prepare the room, her mind already contemplating lunch and dinner for two. Maud had last cleaned the larger of the guest rooms a week ago, but another thorough cleaning was in order. Fresh linen and the windows opened to air the room, flowers from the garden the finishing touch. There was heat in the room, but Maud set a fire in the grate. Standing by the door Maud surveyed the room pleased with her work. Back to the dining room, just the polishing to finish off and then she would have lunch to prepare.

Story: A Lady and Her Maid. Chapter 7.

by Jackie J

Chapter 7

There had developed an unmistakable normality at Stag Head Manor, with its groundsman cum groom and coachman, its maid and mistress. Constance, the once gracious Mistress of the manor had evolved into a perfect maid, mainly by her own delusional imaginings, utterly consumed by and held captive within the dumbed down persona of her own making, that of Maud Williams.

Maud’s weight gain had been subtle but significant over the months, although her figure could be said to be more plump than overweight. Once considered quite statuesque, along with her chubby cheeks, busty chest, an often-slapped, broad worker woman’s backside now protruded below her neatly tied aprons bow. Gone the gracious step of a lady, from the wearing of heavy boots and restrictive garb, and her light educated voice now replaced with her encouraged common speech. There was little that remained of the once sophisticated and elegant Lady Constance Summerfield. In fact, nothing at all!

Whilst the degradation and debasement of the former mistress of Stag Head manor could not have been better triumphed, the transformation of maid to lady, by Miss Jennifer Jenkins, was no less profound. Jenny the maid had blossomed, assuming a deserved superiority over her fawning maid until becoming second nature. Wearing fine clothes and with her developed grace no one would consider the ladylike Miss Jenkins to be other than the Mistress of the manor.

Having taken breakfast and returned to her rooms to dress, Jennifer looked out from an upstairs widow over the lawns towards the gatehouse. Not the best of days, low cloud, and drizzle in the air, not a day to be outdoors. More a day to be spent in the library.

 

Story: A Lady and Her Maid. Chapter 6.

by Jackie J

Chapter 6

A month had passed since the visit from the customs agents and Jennifer had heard nothing further.

Jennifer smiled cynically at her once mistress down on her hands and knees polishing the upper landings floors. Now convinced of her Mistress’s motivation for their role reversal, Jennifer reconciled that a continuation of the situation was only what her Mistress would want. She wouldn’t want to be discovered, would she? Life of maid, her maid, was much better than the potential confines of a prison cell.

Ever more confident of her position, it was two weeks later that Jennifer took up the invitation of Mrs Geraldine Booth to take afternoon tea at her residence. A number of ladies were present, and Jennifer was not out of place amongst them. The new dress she wore drew many favourable comments. The event was passing well until Geraldine, unknown to Jennifer, the wife of the local magistrate, took Jennifer to one side.

“Is it true then about Constance?”

Jennifer was taken somewhat off guard.

“True? What? What is true?”

Geraldine privy to highly confidential information, released on the pillows of her bed by her husband, smirked.

“You know, why she left the manor in such a hurry… You had a visit did you not, from the customs? I have it on good authority Constance is a wanted woman. Warrants have been issued. Come on Jennifer, you must know! You can tell me. What is going on?”

Jennifer stayed calm. How did Geraldine know all this? Was it common knowledge? Jennifer needed to know just how much she did know.

“Geraldine you obviously know more than me. Yes, the customs officers visited the manor and took away some files. They didn’t tell me anything other than they needed to speak with Constance about some matter or other. Wanted woman, warrants? I was told nothing of this. You must tell me what you know, Geraldine, to be sure I am most confused.”

Story: A Lady and Her Maid. Chapter 5.

by Jackie J

Chapter 5

If the phrase 'be careful what you wish for' was ever more poignant, it was surely the case for Lady Constance Summerfield. The life of a maid that she had coveted and contrived to be her own would appear to have been a most reckless endeavour. The best laid plans of mice and men, or in this case Lady Summerfield, could have not been better illustrated. It could only be those who had known Constance extremely well that would recognise her to be other than the maid she now was. Plain faced, cropped hair, a slightly stooped posture, callused hands, and a servile demeanour all swathed in the apparel of service.

Aproned she had wished to be and aproned she had truly been. Jennifer had little conscience for what she had done, what had become of her once mistress. She wanted to be a maid and a maid she now was. Jennifer of course could have called a halt at any time during the extraordinary and comprehensive transformation from lady to maid, sought help for her Mistress, but why would she? It had gone too far for that now.

Jennifer was well aware that the continued absence of Lady Summerfield would, at some point, be questioned. But by whom? No one had shown any concern whatsoever for the wellbeing and whereabouts of Lady Summerfield.

Captions Sunday!

An excellent entry from a new contributor, Jennifer Eccles. This picture begged to be captioned of course.

Well I must say, you don't look too happy or grateful. I think you're very lucky to be able to keep a roof over your heads. You should be thankful that the court ordered you to remain in the house to work off some of the debt.

The new owner is very wealthy and has paid cash for the property, with all fixtures and fittings, but this still leaves an appreciable amount still owing. Therefore, as your food, clothing and other daily needs will be provided, your weekly wage will be paid directly to the court. But you have, very generously, been permitted to keep two shillings per week to cover any sundry expenses you might have. Unfortunately, as menial staff are only paid a pittance, the debt reduction will be a very slow process for you, so the court order is for a minimum period of two years, when they will reconsider your positions.

Story: A Lady and Her Maid. Chapter 4.

by Jackie J

Chapter 4

William was expected to arrive from his visit to see relatives mid-morning and Jennifer ensured that her maid would be kept busy. Beating the many rugs was a heavy and monthly task, another addition to Maud’s rota.

The last two weeks, whilst William had been away, Sam, a local farmers son, had been attending the horses and keeping the grounds tidy. Jenny had hardly seen him, but he had done a good job, and everything was in order.

After taking breakfast Jennifer waited for William at his cottage situated at the end of the drive leading up to the manor. Her timing was perfect and she did not have to wait long seeing William step down from the coach that had brought him, gather his case, and walk towards her.

“Hello, Jenny. Sunday’s best on a Saturday! My, you do look handsome. A new dress?”

Story: A Lady and Her Maid. Chapter 3.

Chapter 3

Stag Head Manor was not overly large. The ground floor, a parlour, a study, a library, two reception rooms, a dining room, kitchens, the maid’s accommodation adjoining the kitchens. A wide staircase leading from the long hallway to the upper floor. A master suite and four guest rooms, the latter seldom used. Attics and cellars for storage but nothing more. The late Lord Summerfield’s wealth had enabled the modernisation of the property which benefited from a central boiler for heating and hot water, and gas lighting. Stag Head Manor was not difficult for one competent maid to provide service for.

During the previous week, when Lady Summerfield took the apron, her maid had prepared a rota for her daily duties. It was only to be for a week so there were many omissions, which Jennifer was now revising. No different to Jennifer’s own rotas, along with additional daily duties, weekly and monthly tasks were now to be included in the maid’s work. Jennifer would not burden her maid with the extra work immediately and would introduce these to her schedule over the coming weeks.

Jennifer, like her mother before her, had been in service from an early age and had been taught well. The instilled mantra from those formative years being to ensure that each task was completed in a timely manner, sticking strictly to the rotas prepared for the household. A good maid never took to her bed before all the day’s work had been completed. This discipline had served Jennifer well. What was good for her will be good for the new maid.

By Way of a Change (1902)

Dear readers, sorry for the long silence. I am well and still very much interested in our favourite topic, it's just that real life (I know, that's a lame excuse, but what I can say?) and, I won't lie, laziness keep interfering. Anyway, a very interesting find. I am a huge fan of Victorian- and Edwardian-era prints and repeatedly used them for captions in this blog. Work by Charles Dana Gibson, the father of the famous 'Gibson Girl', has always held a special place in my heart. Surprisingly, I'd never come across this interesting 1902 print titled "By Way of a Change" before.  Many of Gibson's prints feature maids, but none unfortunately could be interpreted as lady-to-maid. This is probably the closest we can get. My spoiled mind keeps inventing the story behind it, but obviously it's something as innocent as this real-life masters and servants hotel role swap I did a post on. I am also somewhat reminded of this Edwardian postcard, How Would You Like to Be the Maid?   

Anyway, what do you think is happening here? 

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Story: Bringing it to Life.

Courtesy of Spanking Magazine Stories blog republishing vintage illustrated spanking tales, here's an interesting take on 'stuck as a maid' trope.

Brining it to Life
From Uniform Girls 19

Christina was over the moon. At long last, the big break had come. After dancing on decrepit stages in dubious old working men’s clubs, she was virtually dancing on air as she told her friends about the audition. ‘I’ve got it!’ She jumped up and down, waving the letter of confirmation. ‘A two-hour pilot and then the series; and it could run and run.’ She ran up to her room, and rang through to the production company’s office. ‘Yes. Christina Jones, here. Yes. Just to say I’ll be there, tomorrow at noon.’

Battlestar Vision was one of several up and coming small production houses providing television programmes to independent television stations through Europe: and their young Managing Director, Chris Thorne, was justifiably pleased with his company’s latest coup. A brand-new British-based soap opera, sold to one of the biggest cable-networks in Europe. The series would start with a major two-hour pilot, after which, it would settle down to a twice-weekly half-hour. Plenty of work for British actors, and plenty of money too, flowing in to the coffers of Battlestar Vision. And there was one really unique aspect to the package: it was a soap with a difference: historic soap was the catchword. A modern drama series with all the audience-attracting elements of conventional soap, but based in late Victorian Britain.

Christina was early for her interview with the casting team. She nodded politely as they explained the part they intended her to play. A maid. That’s right. A very useful role for the scriptwriters because a maid has access above and below stairs. She can hear and relay all sorts of gossip… They told her the planned production schedule. The script for the pilot was already written: the programme would go into production in two months’ time ready for completion in mid-summer. The network would be broadcasting it in the early autumn, ready for the big pre-Christmas audiences. Before that, each regular member of the cast would be sent on special assignments relating to their particular part. A doctor would be sent to an old hospital with access to the establishment’s Victorian records. The man and woman who would play the major roles of Lord and Lady Harmon would spend a month in one of Britain’s smaller stately homes: and Christina was to visit another minor stately home, to work as a maid.

Story: Veronica and Aunt Miranda. Chapter 12 and Epilogue.

by Jackie J


Mrs Ryder appeared at the end of the landing and walked slowly towards her two scrubbing maids, heads down backsides in the air and chuckled.

“Good work. Very good work.”

Mrs Ryder pointed at her new maid.

“You girl, come with me.”

Ronnie could hardly believe her Mistress was called a "girl", yet Lady Cornwall quickly got to her feet and meekly followed Mrs Ryder along the hallway towards the chambers. 

Mrs Ryder stood in the doorway of Lady Cornwall’s private rooms whilst Jekaterina entered.

“Change the bed linen and towels and tidy this room. I expect it to be spotless when I return.”

Maid Jane was soon to work stripping the bed sheets and within the hour the room was looking pristine and impressed Mrs Ryder when she returned to inspect the work.