“One that's got a good temper, and isn't easy irritated,” she said to herself, in summing up the aspirants, “but not one that's easy-tempered because he's silly. He must have plenty of common sense as well as be willing to do what he's told.”
When her father discovered that he himself had been considering the desirability of engaging the services of such a person, and had, indeed already, in a way, expressed his intention of sending her to “the agency chap” to look him up, she was greatly relieved.
“I can try to teach him what you've taught me, Father,” she said, “and of course he'll learn just by being with you.”
The assistant engaged was a hungry young student who had for weeks, through ill luck, been endeavoring to return with some courage the gaze of starvation, which had been staring him in the face.
His name was Dudevant, and with desperate struggles he had educated himself highly, having cherished literary ambitions from his infancy. At this juncture it had become imperative that he should, for a few months at least, obtain food. Ann had chosen well by instinct. His speech had told her that he was intelligent, his eyes had told her that he would do anything on earth to earn his living.
From the time of his advent, Joseph Hutchinson had become calmer and had ceased to be in peril of apoplectic seizure. Foreign nations became less iniquitous and dangerous, foreign languages were less of a barrier, easier to understand. A pleasing impression that through great facility he had gained a fair practical knowledge of French, German, and Italian, supported and exhilarated him immensely.
“It's right-down wonderful how a chap gets to understand these fellows' lingo after he's listened to it a bit,” he announced to Ann. “I wouldn't have believed it of myself that I could see into it as quick as I have. I couldn't say as I understand everything they say just when they're saying it; but I understand it right enough when I've had time to translate like. If foreigners didn't talk so fast and run their words one into another, and jabber as if their mouths was full of puddin', it'd be easier for them as is English. Now, there's `wee' and `nong.' I know 'em whenever I hear 'em, and that's a good bit of help.”
“Yes,” answered Ann, “of course that's the chief thing you want to know in business, whether a person is going to say `yes' or `no.'”
He began to say “wee” and “nong” at meals, and once broke forth “Passy mor le burr” in a tone so casually Parisian that Ann was frightened, because she did not understand immediately, and also because she saw looming up before her a future made perilous by the sudden interjection of unexpected foreign phrases it would be incumbent upon her and Dudevant to comprehend instantaneously without invidious hesitation.
“Don't you understand? Pass the butter. Don't you understand a bit o' French like that?” he exclaimed irritatedly. “Buy yourself one o' these books full of easy sentences and learn some of 'em, lass. You oughtn't to be travelin' about with your father in foreign countries and learnin' nothin'. It's not every lass that's gettin' your advantages.”