“Why, she knows my name, and that’s all.”
“But she’s a,—why, she’s sort of an institution.”
“Yes; I know she’s a public benefactor, and all that. But, really, she’s very interesting; though, I fancy she has a quick temper. However, we’ve made the agreement for a week. Then if either of us wants to back out, we’re at liberty to do so.”
“She was willing to arrange it that way?”
“She insisted on it. She never takes anybody until after a week’s trial.”
“Oh, almost nothing. I’m not a social secretary, or anything like that. Merely a companion, to be with her, and read to her occasionally, or perhaps sing to her, and go to drive with her,—and that’s about all.”
“No one else in the family?”
“I don’t think so. She didn’t speak of any one, except her secretary and servants. She’s rather old-fashioned, and the house is dear. All crystal chandeliers, and old frescoed walls and ceilings, and elaborate door-frames. Why, Nan, it’ll be fun to be there a week, and it’s so,—well, so safe and pleasant, you know, and so correct and seemly. Why, if I really had to earn my own living, I couldn’t do better than to be companion to Mrs. Van Reypen.”
“No; I suppose not. What is the salary?”