"I am glad of that," said Mr. Andrews, growing lighter-hearted. "There is one thing more. You feel certain, Miss Rothermel, that three women can do the work? You know there have hitherto been five—"
Miss Rothermel looked contemptuous again. "That depends," she said, "entirely upon your wishes. Three women are all you need. You might have eight, but I don't think they'd add to your comfort."
"I am sure you are right," he said, apologetically. "All I mean is, will they be coming to me every day or two and saying they have too much to do, and excusing themselves in that manner for neglecting their work?"
"That depends, again, upon what you say to them, if they do come. If you never give in to any demands for more wages, and make them fully understand that you mean to keep three servants in the house and no more, you will not have any trouble. It will be an easy place; they will be very glad to stay. These three that I have told you of, are all good servants. I don't see any reason that Jay—that you all—I mean—shouldn't be quite comfortable."
Mr. Andrews knew very well that all her solicitude was for Jay. He did not care, however. He was willing to get comfort, even over his son's shoulder.
"I can't tell you how much obliged to you I am," he said. "Your aunt's maid has rather frightened me about my cook elect. Do you think there will be any difficulty in getting her to consent to come?"
"I don't know why there should be."
"Perhaps, if you would say a word to her, she might be influenced."
Missy grew lofty at once. She had evidently washed her hands of the matter.
"I don't know anything to say to her to induce her to come if she is not induced by the prospect of a good home and good wages. She will probably come."