The next day he listened cordially to the youth’s suggestion that they make a place for Dr. Darrow’s daughter in the mill.
“She has finished business college, sir, and she will be a good worker. I can promise that.”
“But—look here, Luke, didn’t Dr. Darrow leave her provided for? Why, good land, he was the busiest man in town—always saw that old buggy of his rattling ’round!”
“I reckon he never crowded people to pay their bills,” young Manders offered. “She has that house, and a few hundred dollars in the bank, and that’s all.”
Mr. ’Gene Carey rumpled his abundant gray hair. “Shame, that’s what it is—man who spent his life taking care of folks— Well, that’s the way it goes, Luke! Certainly, we’ll make a place for her! Want her in here with you?”
Luke Mander’s dark gaze did not waver. “I was figuring to have her in here at first, sir, till we saw just where we could use her best.”
“Well, you go ahead and hire her, Luke,” the old gentleman was hearty. “You go right ahead and hire her, and if there isn’t anything she can do, why you make up something! Nice girl like that, pretty girl, too, seems to me I remember—red hair?”
“Yes, sir,” said Luke steadily.
“All right, then, I’ll leave it to you, Luke!” He went away well pleased with himself. It would be, no doubt, another case of poor Minnie, but with Luke at the books they could afford a passenger.
He found, however, directly Glen Darrow was installed at the Altonia, that it was not in the very least another case of poor Minnie. The girl was as silent as young Manders, almost as efficient, and with an equally hearty appetite for work. It worried the old gentleman a little; here was a girl who was his daughter’s sort—hadn’t she gone to Miss Josephine’s when they were little tads? Certainly she had! Well, then!—turned out into the cold world to earn her bread and butter! How’d he feel if it was his Nancy, eh? And a pretty piece, too, with that blaze of red hair round her face and those eyes and that skin, by gad! But when all was said and done, Glen Darrow seemed to be the kind of girl who could look out for herself. Pleasant enough, or at least civil enough, but—well, edgy. The doctor had been a crusty old customer; girl was a chip of the old block.