The fight between circumstances and character
had gone till now in favour of character, but circumstances must call up
no further forces against character. A hair would turn the scale either
way. One morning she was startled out of her sleep by a loud knocking at
the door. It was Mrs. Bingley, who had come to ask her if she knew what
time it was. It was nearly seven o'clock. But Mrs. Bingley could not blame
her much, having herself forgotten to put on the electric bell, and Esther
hurried through her dressing. But in hurrying she happened to tread on her
dress, tearing it right across. It was most unfortunate, and just when she
was most in a hurry. She held up the torn skirt. It was a poor, frayed,
worn-out rag that would hardly bear mending again. Her mistress was
calling her; there was nothing for it but to run down and tell her what
had happened.
"Haven't you got another dress that you can put on?"
"No, ma'am."
"Really, I can't have you going to the door in that thing. You don't do
credit to my house; you must get yourself a new dress at once."
Esther muttered that she had no money to buy one.
"Then I don't know what you do with your money."
"What I do with my wages is my affair; I've plenty of use for my money."
"I cannot allow any servant of mine to speak to me like that.
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