“A —— my dear madam, I beg your pardon?”
“A maid,” repeated Dorothy; “a servant.”
“Oh! A hired girl, or more accurately, in the parlance of Judson Centre, the help. Do I understand that it is your desire to become an employer of help?”
“It is,” answered Dorothy, somewhat awed by the solemnity of his tone, “if help is to be found. I thought you might know where I could get some one.”
“If I might be permitted to suggest,” replied Mr. Bradford, after due deliberation, “I should unhesitatingly recommend Mrs. Sarah Smithers, who did for your uncle during the entire period of his residence here and whose privilege it was to close his eyes in his last sleep. She is at present without prospect of a situation, and I believe would be very ready to accept a new position, especially so desirable a position as this, in your service.”
“Thank you. Could you—could you send her to me?”
“I shall do so, most assuredly, providing she is willing to come, and should she chance not to be agreeably disposed toward so pleasing a project, it will be my happiness to endeavour to persuade her.” Drawing out a memorandum book and a pencil, the old gentleman made an entry upon a fresh page. “The multitudinous duties in connection with the practice of my profession,” he began—“there, my dear madam, it is already attended to, since it is placed quite out of my power to forget.”
“I am greatly obliged,” said Dorothy.
“And now,” continued the visitor, “I must go. I fear I have already outstayed the limitation of a formal visit, such as the first should be, and it is not my desire to intrude upon an author’s time. Moreover, my own duties, slight and unimportant as they are in comparison, must ultimately press upon my attention.”
“Come again,” said Harlan, kindly, following him to the door.