‘It is not for myself, you understand,’ pursued the man, in an unctuous tone that sickened the general, ‘but for this poor one. Do you promise to do this?" "Solemnly," rejoined the carpenter. ’ ‘Yolande, my maid?’ ‘You don’t need a maid,’ Martha said stoutly. “Excellent fellow!” he answered a little irrelevantly. What he wanted desperately was to be alone. Then a third secretarial opening occurred and renewed her hopes again: a position as amanuensis—with which some of the lighter duties of a nurse were combined— to an infirm gentleman of means living at Twickenham, and engaged upon a great literary research to prove that the “Faery Queen” was really a treatise upon molecular chemistry written in a peculiar and picturesquely handled cipher. He looked at her, hurt.
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