“Of course it is,” said Mr. Durnford; “and a very beautiful way of looking at it too.”
“Thank you, sir. Well, there are two sides to my difficulty. First I wish to answer every letter I receive; but I cannot possibly do it myself.”
“No,” said the minister. “But surely many of them need not be answered at all.”
“Yes, sir, by your leave. My sister says that many of the letters are probably impostures. But you see I cannot tell certainly which are of that kind. She also points out that very few of them contain stamps for reply. But I tell her that a few stamps, more or less, are of no moment to me now.”
“I don’t know,” broke in the minister, “which more to admire—your sister’s wisdom or your own goodness.”
“Cobbler” Horn deprecatingly waved his hand.
“Now, sir,” he resumed, “Jemima advises me to engage a secretary.”
“Obviously,” assented the minister, “that is your best course.”
“I suppose it is, sir; but I am all at sea, and want your help.”
“And you shall have it,” said the minister heartily. “There are scores of young men—and young women too—who would jump at the chance of such a post as that of your secretary would probably be.”