“It’s the very thing!” she cried, the words tumbling over each other. “Just what we want, and it’s in this morning’s paper, so I don’t suppose anyone has got it yet, and now she’ll really get fat, and you needn’t be scornful, Colin, so there!”
“I’m not,” said Colin. “But I’d love to know what it’s all about.”
“Why, this advertisement,” said Madge excitedly. “Listen, you two:
Lady requiring rest and change offered pleasant country home, few weeks, return light services. Teacher preferred. References exchanged.”
There followed an address in the south-west of Victoria.
“Oh, get out!” Colin said. “Doris doesn’t want to leave off work to carry bricks!”
“But it says ‘light services,’ don’t you see?” protested Madge. “There might not be much to do at all—not more than enough to keep her from ‘broodin’ on bein’ a dorg’! And she’d get rest and change. It says so. And ‘references exchanged’—it’s so beautifully circumspect.” Our youngest put on a quaint little air of being at least seventy-five. “Personally, I think it was made for Doris!”
“You always had a sanguine mind,” was Colin’s comment on this attitude. “What does the patient think about it?”
“I’m not a patient,” I contradicted. “But—I don’t know—it sounds as if it might be all right, Colin. The ‘pleasant country home’ sounds attractive. I wouldn’t mind any ordinary housework, if they were nice people.”
“But they might be beasts,” said my brother pithily. “I don’t feel like letting you risk it.” He paused, frowning. “Wish I knew which might be the greater risk. There’s no doubt that you ought to get away from here.”