"She sends nearly all of her salary over to the boy at home," he went on earnestly. "It will have to be one hundred dollars, at the very lowest. Now, here's my proposition. I am getting two hundred a month. It's just twice as much as I'm worth,—or any other chauffeur, for that matter. Well, now what's the matter with me taking just what I'm worth and giving her the other half? See what I mean?"
He was standing before her, his eyes glowing, his voice full of boyish eagerness. As she looked up into his shining eyes, a tender smile came and played about her lips.
"I see," she said softly.
"Well?" he demanded anxiously, after a moment.
"Do sit down," she said. "You appear to have grown prodigiously tall in the last few minutes. I shall have a dreadful crick in my neck, I'm afraid."
He pulled up a chair and sat down.
"I can get along like a breeze on a hundred dollars a month," he pursued. "I've worked it all out,—just how much I can save by moving into cheaper lodgings, and cutting out expensive cigarettes, and going on the water-wagon entirely,—although I rarely take a drink as it is,—and getting my clothes at a department store instead of having them sent out from London,—I'd be easy to fit, you see, even with hand-me-downs,—and in a lot of other ways. Besides, it would be a splendid idea for me to practise economy. I've never—"
"You dear old goose," broke in the Marchioness, delightedly; "do you think for an instant that I will allow you to pay the salary of my private secretary,—if I should conclude to employ one?"
"But you say you can't afford to employ one," he protested. "Besides, I shouldn't want her to be a real secretary. The work would be too hard and too confining. Old Bramble was my grandfather's secretary. He worked sixteen hours a day and never had a holiday. She must have plenty of fresh air and outdoor exercise and—and time to read and do all sorts of agreeable things. I couldn't think of allowing her to learn how to use a typing machine, or to write shorthand, or to get pains in her back bending over a desk for hours at a time. That isn't my scheme, at all. She mustn't do any of those stupid things. Naturally, if you were to pay her out of your own pocket, you'd be justified in demanding a lot of hard, exacting work—"
"Just a moment, please. Let's be serious," said the Marchioness, pursing her lips.