"Do you need a cook and a dishwasher?"
Murray frowned. "Our new hotel is nearly finished; perhaps Mrs. Gerard would accept a position as—as hostess."
"HOSTESS! In a railroad-camp hotel! Who ever heard of such a thing?" Eliza eyed him incredulously.
O'Neil's flush did not go unnoticed as he said, quietly:
"It IS unusual, but we'll try it. She might learn to manage the business, with a competent assistant. The salary will be ample for her and Natalie to live on."
Eliza laid a hand timidly upon his arm and said in an altered tone:
"Omar Khayyam, you're a fine old Persian gentleman! I know what it will mean to those two poor women, and I know what it will mean to you, for of course the salary will come out of your pocket."
He smiled down at her. "It's the best I can offer, and I'm sure you won't tell them."
"Of course not. I know how it feels to lose a fortune, too, for I've been through the mill—Don't laugh! You have a load on your shoulders heavier than Mr. Sinbad's, and it's mighty nice of you to let me add to the burden. I—I hope it won't break your poor back. Now I'm going up to your bungalow and lock myself into your white bedroom, and—"
"Have a good cry!" he said, noting the suspicious moisture in her eyes.