“Why, Alice, you are quite an heiress, then!” returned her master, scarcely however believing the thing so grand as Alice would have it. “But don’t you think now it would be rather hard that your fortune should be Mrs. Greatorex’s misfortune?”
“Well, I don’t see as how it shouldn’t,” replied Alice. “It’s mis’ess’s fortun’ as ’as been my misfortun’—ain’t it now, sir? An’ why shouldn’t it be the other way next?”
“I don’t quite see how your mistress’s fortune can be said to be your misfortune, Alice.”
“Anybody would see that, sir, as wasn’t blinded by class-prejudices.”
“Class-prejudices!” exclaimed Mr. Greatorex, in surprise at the word.
“It’s a term they use, I believe, sir! But it’s plain enough that if mis’ess hadn’t ’a’ been better off than me, she wouldn’t ha’ been able to secure my services—as you calls it.”
“That is certainly plain enough,” returned Mr. Greatorex. “But suppose nobody had been able to secure your services, what would have become of you?”
“By that time the people’d have rose to assert their rights.”
“To what?—To fortunes like yours?”
“To bread and cheese at least, sir,” returned Alice, pertly.
“Well, but you’ve had something better than bread and cheese.”
“I don’t make no complaints as to the style of livin’ in the house, sir, but that’s all one, so long as it’s on the vile condition of domestic slavery—which it’s nothing can justify.”