"Oh yes," said Gwen, eagerly; "mother is so keen about that. She does do such a lot herself, and she took me away from school a fortnight before time was up to go to a hospital for three months' training."
"And you are having a holiday and want to go on," suggested the Warden.
"No; mother thought I had better have a change. You can't think how horrid the matron was to me—she had favourites, worse luck; and now mother is looking—has been"—Gwen corrected herself sharply—"for something for me to do that would be more suitable, but the difficulty is to find anything really nice."
The Warden meditated. "Yes," he said.
Gwen continued to look at him, her face full of questioning.
"You have been thinking whether you should trust yourself to me," he said very gravely, "and whether you could face the responsibility and the cares of a house, a position, like that of a Warden's wife?"
"Oh yes," said Gwen.
"You think that you understand them?" he asked.
"Oh yes," said Gwen. "At least, I would try; I would do my best."
"There is nothing very amusing in my manner of life; in fact, I should describe it as—solemn. The business," he continued, "of a Warden is to ward his college. His wife's business is to assist him."