He seated himself in front of his companion.
‘I want to ask you something, Mary. If they were left alone, would you be willing to live here still, as you do now, for a few more years?’
‘I shall do whatever you wish—whatever you bid me, Mr. Lord,’ answered the woman, in a voice of heartfelt loyalty.
‘You would stay on, and keep house for them?’
‘But would they go on living here?’
‘I could make them do so. I could put it down as a condition, in my will. At all events, I would make Nancy stay. Horace might live where he liked—though not with money to throw about. They have no relatives that could be of any use to them. I should wish Nancy to go on living here, and you with her; and she would only have just a sufficient income, paid by my old friend Barmby, or by his son. And that till she was—what? I have thought of six-and-twenty. By that time she would either have learnt wisdom, or she never would. She must be free sooner or later.’
‘But she couldn’t live by herself, Mr. Lord.’
‘You tell me you would stay,’ he exclaimed impulsively.
‘Oh, but I am only her servant. That wouldn’t be enough.’
‘It would be. Your position shall be changed. There’s no one living to whom I could trust her as I could to you. There’s no woman I respect so much. For twenty years you have proved yourself worthy of respect—and it shall be paid to you.’