"Is that the only reason?"
"There's another," said Martha. "For in all the world, next to his, ye've the swatest face and way with yez."
The old woman's emotions rose, and her brogue became heavier and heavier upon her, until her words lost all semblance of meaning. And Miss Joy, warm and well fed, leaned back in her deep chair and listened and tried to understand, and looked into Martha's face with eyes that were dark and misty with tenderness.
And she slept that night and late into the next morning, without stirring. And when she waked there was already a little flicker of color in her pale face.
VII
"Well, Martha," said the Poor Boy, when he had kissed her and welcomed her back, "did you find some one to help you?"
"She's a plain old thing," said Martha, "but honest and with good references. Would ye care to see her for yourself?"
"Good God, no," said the Poor Boy. "As long as I live I don't want to see any one but you. Tell her, will you? See that she understands. Tell her—gently, so as not to hurt her feelings, but firmly, that she has only to show herself to be dismissed. The day I see her—she goes."