"That is recommendation sufficient," vouchsafed Lady Dartelle, graciously. "I shall require no other. When will it be convenient for me to see her?"
"I dare say mother could call upon you to-morrow and bring Miss Holte with her."
"That would be very nice. Three o'clock would be a convenient time for me. Suppose Miss Holte should accept the engagement, would she be able, do you think, to return to Hulme Abbey with me at the end of the week?"
"I should imagine so. I do not know of anything to prevent it."
Yet as he spoke, that fair, sweet, sad face seemed to rise before him, and he wondered how he should bear his home when she was there no longer.
Still, he had done what she wanted. She had asked him to find her some work to do, and he had complied with her request. Yet his heart smote him as he thought of her—so fair, so fragile, so sensitive. How would she like to be among strangers? Fortunately he had no conception of the true life of a governess in a fashionable family; if he had had, it would have been the last work of the kind he would have chosen for her in whom he was interested.
"The work will brace her nerves; it will do her good," he said to himself; "and if by chance she does not like it, she need not stay—there will always be a home for her with us."
When he reached home he told her. She appeared neither pleased nor regretful; it seemed to him that the common events of every-day life no longer possessed the least interest for her. She asked no questions about either Lady Dartelle or her place of residence, or how many children she would have to teach. The young girl agreed with him that she would do well to accept the offer.
"Are you pleased?" he asked. "Do you think you will like the duties?"
"I am very thankful to have some work to do," she replied; "and I am deeply grateful to you, Dr. Chalmers."