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"What exactly does 'fastidious' mean, Popp?" asked Gladys of her father at the breakfast table next morning. Where she acquired the colloquialism of "Poppa," which is something more American than Australian, never transpired.

Poppa's reply was slowly, but reflectively given, as he raised his eyes for a moment from his morning paper: "Means generally scrupulously particular—or, say, over-particular, why do you ask?"

It was Mrs. Horton who answered.

"Oh, Glad has been reading the note we got from Mr. Summers about the young person who is willing to come as lady-help."

"Oh," and Mr. Horton was willing at that to return to his newspaper, for there was much in it that was of more absorbing interest than the engaging of a help in the running of the Horton household. But however much that might be the case, the family interest in this domestic affair was dominant for the moment.

The Horton household had of necessity to be run on lines of reasonable economy. But quite lately the council of economy had decided that a departure should be made, and a lady-help installed. Prudential motives had suggested that if a young lady of good address and some accomplishments could be found who would give some slight assistance in the lighter work of the house, and at the same time take the education of the two girls in hand, with especial regard to music lessons, it would be money well-spent. And so Mrs. Horton had been on the look-out for a young person having such qualifications.

Under the remarkable ramifications of "domestic service" in Australia, one of the strangest developments is surely found in this connection. Barred from domestic service in the ordinary sense of the word, by some sense of family pride, rendered unfit in a manner by comparatively gentle upbringing, and really in many cases qualified for better things, the "superior young person" is willing to go out to service as "lady-help," who shrinks from service under any other name; though often she does the work of the maid—a homely English phrase that has found its vogue, very fittingly, at last in our own domestic nomenclature.

"Her one foible is fastidiousness."

"Why does not Mr. Summers write plain English?" queried Gladys.

"It is plain English—do you take it for German?" snapped Tom, whose "big brother" proclivities, it will already have been noticed, were much in evidence.

"Well, then, tell us the exact meaning of 'foible,' if you know," protested Gladys.

The keenness of the discussion got Mr. Horton's attention off the paper.

"I'd better see this much-discussed epistle," he rather playfully suggested, and held out his hand for it. This is how the brief note read:—

"Clayton,

March—, 19—.

"My Dear Mrs. Horton.

You have asked me can I recommend Miss Chester to your service. I am glad to reply that I think I can do so with confidence. I have known Nilda since a baby. She is the daughter of one whom I used to see a good deal of. Her general ability to fill the position of lady-help is, to the best of my knowledge, assured. In addition she is a young lady of very prepossessing appearance, and in disposition very winning, not to say charming. Those who know her best say she ought to have been born a great lady. Perhaps her one foible is fastidiousness.

"Yours very sincerely,

"JAMES SUMMERS."

"Well," said Mr. Horton, "that seems an excellent recommendation in its way, and, coming from an old friend, leaves nothing to be desired, I should say."

"But, Poppa," broke in Gladys, "please, do tell us just what are we to expect from a governess whose 'foible is fastidiousness?'"

"That she will be mighty particular with you, Miss,"—brother Tom was in a hurry to say—"and keep you in your place."

"That is easy—I wish you had some one to keep you in your place," was Gladys' sufficiently apt reply, and she still looked toward her father for enlightenment.

"We shall have to find the meaning by experience, I expect. It may mean a great many things—she may be over-particular—too scrupulous, perhaps, in regard to her dress, her appearance, her diet, her friends, her conversation, her books, her boots—oh, or 50 other things."

"Especially about the lessons, I expect," added the ever-ready Tom, who was not always noted for acerbity, but that was particularly noticeable in his contribution to the breakfast table talk this morning.

Mrs. Horton said that would be an excellent trait, for she never could bear the slipshod and unexacting, and if Miss Chester was very particular, it was a promising feature in any one undertaking the education of her daughters, and lending a hand in the more agreeable work of the house.

"Then you think, dear, that I should write to engage Miss Chester?" she finally said to her husband.

"By all means. I see no reason why you should not. Offer her the sum we agreed upon, and a three months' engagement for a start."

The offer went out by the first post. It promised Miss Chester a comfortable home, as a member of the family. She was to have a small room to herself, cosily furnished. In a full and fair way, Mrs. Horton stated as near as possible what duties were expected of her. She was to rise at 7 o'clock in winter and 6.30 o'clock in summer; dust breakfast-room and lay table for breakfast, assist to clear the things after breakfast, and keep the drawing-room presentable. At 10 o'clock commence teaching the two girls, and continue lessons till 12—five days per week. In the afternoons the duties read light. Three times every week she was to be at liberty to go out for a walk with the Horton girls; but always to return in good time to lend some assistance toward the evening meal, which was the principal one of the day. The reference to the evenings read invitingly. It was hoped Miss Chester's recommended musical ability would be an added cheerfulness to the house, and tend to promote the family happiness. There were some other details which need not be noted; but, generally speaking, Mrs. Horton's remarks, outside the specification of duties, were such as one lady might write to another, and presumably had their effect on the "young person" whose "one foible was fastidiousness."

Generally speaking, the Horton family were unusually moved about the coming of the new governess cum-lady-help. They were making a departure in their domestic economy. And Mr. Summers' letter of recommendation had somehow raised expectations of quite an unusual character.

If Miss Chester had not been an unusual character this story could hardly have been written.

It was a week from the family discussion above recorded that the stranger was to arrive. In the meantime a letter had been received from Miss Chester concluding the engagement, and it was couched in these terms:—

"Ardnum,

April 2nd, 19—.

"My Dear Mrs. Horton,

I am delighted in the prospect of coming to live with you in Sydney. It will all be a very new and strange experience for me, as I have never seen your great city, and am full of curiosity as to what it is like. I hope you will like me, and that your daughters and I shall be great friends. I shall try very hard to please you, and be of service to you in every way I can. Will you be so kind as to meet me by the mail train on Monday morning, as I shall, I am sure, be frightened out of my wits if I am alone at Redfern station.

"Believe me, sincerely yours,

"NILDA CONSTANCE CHESTER.

"P.S.—I accept terms offered with thanks, and have carefully noted the duties mentioned in your kind letter."

"Nilda Constance Chester. Dear me, what an uncommon name," came from Mrs. Horton, as she now, for the first time, noted the full signature.

"Hilda is common enough," commented Tom.

"Not Hilda, but Nilda," corrected his mother.

It's quite a grand sounding name the gentle Ester thought.

Gladys, protesting that it must be Hilda surely, requested to see the letter. It was plainly written. "Poppa, have ever you heard of Nilda?"

"Don't remember ever coming across it."

"We must ask her how she came by that name;" a remark that called forth another snap from Tom to the effect that he supposed Miss Gladys would want to know where Miss Chester bought her boots before she was five minutes in the house.

Mr. Horton brought this small talk to a conclusion by issuing an edict that he would have no impertinent questions asked of Miss Chester, who was to be treated with every consideration and courtesy by the junior members of the family, who were to expect as much in return. And there was an especial word for Master Tom, who was told that he was not to be flippant. That not only in regard to Miss Chester was it desirable that he observe a little more decorum in speech and manner, but toward his sisters, also; as the language and style of the street or the football field was not edifying, it should not be cultivated in the home circle.

Tom listened in silence, with a half-offended air. Nor did he say "Yes, sir." Australian boys seldom do. It is one of the pronounced deficiencies in young Australia. It must be that young Australia's education, in the matter of manner, style, filial obedience and respect has been neglected. Only in isolated cases—rendered conspicuous by their singularity in the Commonwealth does one hear the good old-time "Yes, sir," or "No, sir," as from son to father. And in these few cases, the probability is that it is more often heard in gentle Irish families than in representatives of either English or Scotch. Whether it comes from the relaxed parental control, or is somehow part and parcel of those free institutions on which we boast ourselves so complacently, the fact remains, and it is particularly noticeable to visitors from the homeland and from foreign countries. What wonder that they tell us that freedom is in itself very fine; but freedom run to license—in manners as in morals—is very bad.