“Yes; but I want to know if you too think me foolish. I’m so dependent on others’ opinions;” and, in a low tone, Anna told how long she had been wanting some nice young person to be constantly with her as companion or waiting-maid, and of the advertisement seen early last winter, how queerly it was expressed, and how careless John had been in tearing off the name and address, with which to light his cigar. “It seems to me,” she continued, “that ‘unfortunate married woman’ is the very one I want. I cannot account for the interest I feel in her, and in spite of all my family can say, I’ve concluded to write, and let John take it to the Herald.”
“Yes; but how will you find her? I understand that the address was burned,” Alice rejoined quickly, feeling herself that Anna was hardly sane in her calculations.
“Oh, I’ve fixed that in the wording,” Anna answered. “I do not know as it will ever reach her, it’s been so long, but if it does, she’ll be sure to know I mean her, or somebody like her.”
It was not at all clear to Alice, but she made no objections, and taking her silence as a tacit approval of her project, Anna followed her to the library.
“I dislike writing very much,” she said, as she saw the array of materials, “and I write so illegibly too. Please do it for me, that’s a dear, good girl,” and she gave the pen to Alice, who wrote the first word, “Wanted,” and then waited for Anna to dictate.
“Wanted.—By an invalid lady, whose home is in the country, a young woman, who will be both useful and agreeable, either as a companion or waiting-maid. No objection will be raised if the woman is married, and unfortunate, or has a child a few months old.
“Address,
“A. E. R., Snowdon, Hampden Co., Mass”
“That is what will assure her, should she ever see it,” Anna said, pointing to the lines,——
“No objection raised if the young woman is married and unfortunate, or has a child a few months old.”