“No recommendations at all to my way of thinking,” retorted Martha. “The wilder the better, I should say, if being wild makes them keep away from me.”
“What else did the Doctor say?” inquired Jeanette, who was very fond of Nancy’s uncle.
“He saw Madame the other day; in fact, she invited them over for dinner. She told him that she is considering getting a companion. Her husband is so occupied with some kind of writing that he is doing, that she is left alone a great deal of the time; and she would like a young girl who would liven up the house a bit. She says that she would be prepare to treat the right kind of a girl like a daughter, entertain for her, and all that. She wanted to know if Uncle could recommend anyone. He did not know of any possibilities, but promised to keep his eyes open.”
“Pauline!” cried Jeanette.
“Janie, you’re a genius! I wonder if she would go!” exclaimed Nancy. “I’ll write Uncle to-night, and tell him all about her.”
“And the third epistle?” teased Martha, who had seen an envelope addressed in a masculine hand.
“That’s from Curtis,” replied Nancy, without a trace of self-consciousness or embarrassment. “He has been sent out to Portland.”
“Maine?” asked Martha, hopefully. “That’s isn’t so far from here. We might stop over on the way home.”
“Sorry to disappoint you, dear,” answered Nancy, sweetly, “but I said out not up, for the Portland in question happens to be in Oregon.”
“‘Now that’s too bad! That’s just too bad!’” sighed Martha.