“You must go, Mrs. O’Keefe,” he said to the apple-woman. “It is important that we have some one in the house—some friend of Florence and the boy—to watch what is going on.”
“Bridget O’Keefe is no fool. Leave her to manage.”
The result was that among a large number of applicants Mrs. O’Keefe was selected by Curtis as Mr. Linden’s nurse, as she expressed herself willing to work for four dollars a week, while the lowest outside demand was seven.
We will now enter the house, in which the last scenes of our story are to take place.
Mr. Linden, weak and emaciated, was sitting in an easy-chair in his library.
“How do you feel this morning, uncle?” asked Curtis, entering the room.
“I am very weak, Curtis. I don’t think I shall ever be any better.”
“I have engaged a nurse, uncle, as you desired, and I expect her this morning.”
“That is well, Curtis. I do not wish to confine you to my bedside.”
“The nurse is below,” said Jane, the servant, entering.