One by one, the newcomers of the previous day were summoned to the adjutant to give particulars of their case. Some had arrived with letters from their employers, and were waiting, pending their dispatch to a home. Three admissions had been made on what is called the “Night Bell.” Two of these were young girls; I was the third. We naturally clung together and one of my companions, a very pretty creature about twenty, was more than sympathetic.

“Did you say you hadn’t got a reference, dear?” she asked.

Turning rather red⁠—the repetition of the question was embarrassing⁠—I admitted that this was so.

“Well, you know,” she said, “I want a place as housemaid. I had to leave my room, because I owed the rent, but I can’t get my box when I’ve a bit of money and meanwhile I’ve got a written reference, here it is.” She handed me a letter, setting forth her special qualifications and her general character for honesty and efficiency.