and a great many servants have been thrown out of employment."
Miss Lisle laughed unpleasantly. "A good thing, too," she remarked. "I hate hotel servants. So does everybody. It is the only good thing I have heard of the Labour Government doing."
"I am sure I don't hate them," said Mrs Lisle, looking round with pathetic resignation, "although they certainly had become rather grasping and overbearing of late. But it was quite an unforeseen development of the scheme that so many should lose their places. Indeed the special object of the tax was to create a fund—' earmarked' I think they call it—out of which to meet the growing pension claim, now that so few of the servant class think it worth while to save."
Miss Lisle laughed again, this time with a note of genuine amusement.
("A most unpleasant girl, I fear," murmured the lady who had raised the white costume question, to her neighbour in a whisper: "so odd.")
"It made a great difference at the registry offices. There are a dozen maids to be had any day where there were really none before. Only one cannot afford to keep them now."
There was a word, a sigh, and an "Ah!" to mark this point of agreement among the four ladies.
"I am afraid that the Government confiscation of all dividends above five per cent, bears very heavily on some," remarked one after a pause. " I know a poor soul of over sixty-five, nearly blind too, whose husband had invested all his savings in the company he had worked for because he knew that it was safe, and, having a good reserve, intended to pay ten per cent, for a long time. When he died it brought her in fifty pounds a year. Now"
There were little signs of sympathy and commiseration from the group. The sex was beginning to take an unwonted interest in terms financial—per centage, surrender value, trustee stock, unearned increment,
