“Wait,” Elizabeth urged when the Server lifted the tea service off the kitchen table. “Allow me to straighten your scarf.”  When he set the tray down, turned toward her and held still, she dried her hands on her apron and began tucking layers of ruffled scarf under the edge of his "V" necked vest. "As you can see, her Ladyship dresses her women servants in wearisome frocks, but her men must be exquisite. There, that will do nicely." Elizabeth stepped back, smiled and looked up at him. For a moment, she saw a softness in his eyes she found oddly familiar. She waited for him to take the tea tray and then followed him to the dining room.

Mary was already there and as soon as the Server turned his back to set the tea tray down, she added a little more water to the cushion of Lady Phillips' chair. Then she quickly smoothed the lace tablecloth, moved the center candelabra back an inch, rushed to stand beside her sister at the door and hid the small water pitcher behind her back. When the door opened, the sounds of laughter filled the room, the scant candlelight cast a variety of elongated shadows on the walls and the Server went to hold the chair for Lady Phillips.

As usual, the men remained standing until the Lady was seated, and that's when it happened - Lady Phillips' weight forced a loud, delicious squishing sound out of the cushion and her Ladyship was mortified.