she's been with me a long time—is very good at plain cooking and at kitchen work, but of course she doesn't pretend to more. Well, now, what would you say about wages—I haven't much idea myself."
"I don't know, sir. Perhaps I ought to tell you that I was never used to—to this, until recently. But I have no friends, and my husband is—is dead—"
"Yes, yes," said the man. "Don't cry—it comes to all of us—but it's hard, no doubt."
"And so I had to earn my own living after that," said the young woman, making a resolute attempt to keep back her tears, "and dressmaking was all that I could do, and lately—"
"I understand. Well, now, what would you say to your board and lodging and fifteen pounds a year? That was what I reckoned to pay for the service I want."
"I should be glad of it, sir, for I am practically destitute. I would do my best to earn it."
