“Her husband’s health failed, then after a long illness he died. He left Nancy nothing and her father had left her nothing, so she had to go to work.”
“Poor Armitage—I knew that he made some bad investments, but I thought he could leave his child a competency. However, I have rather lost sight of the family.”
“Yes, it is some time since they left here. Now, Judge, don’t you think Mrs. Nancy would preside charmingly over your household? She is the sweetest girl.”
“I do, indeed,” said the Judge, heartily, “if she would not be too much of a fine lady to have a motherly or sisterly care of the children. You see, Mrs. Blodgett is getting old, and her department is the housekeeping. I want the next best thing to a mother for those little girls.”
“Nancy is at present mothering two hundred and fifty children in an orphan asylum,” said Berty, warmly, “and mothering them so well that the board of managers has offered to increase her salary ever so much if she will stay. But the responsibility is too much for her. She is a great worker, but she is not very strong. Next week she is coming to visit me. I know of several positions that have been offered her, but I don’t believe she has anything in view that would suit her as well as this one with her father’s old friend.”
“I shall be obliged if you will arrange an interview with her for me,” said the Judge, “but don’t say anything decisive. Twenty-five does not seem very young to you, but a girl of that age appears like a child to me, and I don’t want to adopt any more children.”
“You used not to be afraid,” replied Berty, smilingly. “Nancy has an old head on her young shoulders.”
“Mrs. Everest,” said the Judge, suddenly, “I am keeping you in a draught. Let us step back here and see the horses.”
Berty went with him; then, a sudden thought of the baby coming over her, she hurried the Judge into the house.
Baby had been good—a perfect angel, and his proud young mother took him upstairs, where he fell asleep in the Judge’s study.