"Just a husband and a child or two, a farm. But when I speak of it now, it doesn't hurt." Penelope stated as briefly as she could.
"That's because you have fully accepted the life you are given here." A maid said. "And quite frankly, it isn't bad. We all mostly come from poor families who couldn't afford to feed too many mouths."
"True and the Master is kind." Another maid agreed.
"Well, enough of these nonsense talks." Phoebe grabbed a potato and began to peel at it roughly. "Sing something happy if you must. All that sad song has gotten all of you miserable!"
"We should sing..."
"Penelope!" Came a loud voice from the entrance to the kitchen.
Everyone turned their heads to the red-headed maid. Penelope didn't know her name just like the many others in the estate, but just like everyone else called the red-headed maid, Penelope also referred to her as Ginger, just like her hair colour.
