"Would you mind telling me how you found out the nurse didn't know her business?"
"You find out various unpleasant things when you're forced to stay around the house."
He nodded, his weary face turning here and there about the room.
"I feel somewhat encouraged," he said slowly. "As I told you, I promise nothing; I only do the best I can."
Luella looked up at him, startled.
"What do you mean?" she protested. "You've done nothing for me—nothing at all!"
"Nothing much—yet," he said heavily. "It takes time, Mrs. Hemple."
The words were said in a dry monotone that was somehow without offense, but Luella felt that he had gone too far. She got to her feet.
"I've met your type before," she said coldly. "For some reason you seem to think that you have a standing here as 'the old friend of the family.' But I don't make friends quickly, and I haven't given you the privilege of being so"—she wanted to say "insolent," but the word eluded her—"so personal with me."
When the front door had closed behind him, Luella went into the kitchen to see if the woman understood about the three different dinners—one for Charles, one for the baby, and one for herself. It was hard to do with only a single servant when things were so complicated. She must try another employment agency—this one had begun to sound bored.