between the two extremes, and that the establishments in question ought to be described as fair middling. This contribution to the discussion, however, Miss Stackpole rejected with scorn. Middling, indeed! If they were not the best in the world, they were the worst, but there was nothing middling about an American hotel.
"We judge from different points of view, evidently," said Mrs. Touchett. "I like to be treated as an individual; you like to be treated as a 'party.'"
"I don't know what you mean," Henrietta replied. "I like to be treated as an American lady."
"Poor American ladies!" cried Mrs. Touchett, with a laugh. "They are the slaves of slaves."
"They are the companions of freemen," Henrietta rejoined.
"They are the companions of their servants—the Irish chambermaid and the negro waiter. They share their work."
"Do you call the domestics in an American household 'slaves '?" Miss Stackpole inquired. "If that's the way you desire to treat them, no wonder you don't like America."
"If you have not good servants, you are miserable," Mrs. Touchett said, serenely. "They are very bad in America, but I have five perfect ones in Florence."
"I don't see what you want with five," Henrietta could not help observing. "I don't think I should like to see five persons surrounding me in that menial position."
"I like them in that position better than in some others," cried Mrs. Touchett, with a laugh.
"Should you like me better if I were your butler, dear?" her husband asked.
"I don't think I should; you would make a very poor butler."
