“Good morning, doctor,” said the lady, shaking hands with Schottman, while Ellen stood in the door. Then she turned to her. “Sit down, Mrs. Williams. You mustn’t feel strange here, because I am sure we are going to like each other. The doctor has told me nice things about you.” Ellen thought no more of dolls. The assured voice, and what she could only describe as the foreign way “Aunt Mathilda” pronounced her words, awed her. She did not know that this was what people called cultivated. She obeyed the injunction to sit down, her eyes glued trustfully but timidly upon her new mistress. “I’m not going to keep you long this morning, because for the next day or two you will have little to do and will be getting accustomed to the place. You can take care of the child yourself?” “Oh, yes, ma’am,” said Ellen, and smiled. “I’ve taken care of many more than this one, and done the work besides.” “I see. That’s splendid. Well, you will have plenty of time for her. It can be managed very well. Gina is fond of children and will look after the baby when you are busy, and then there is my nephews’ nurse, Mrs. Stone. Gina is my personal maid. The other servants are Marie, who is the parlour maid and waitress, John, the gardener and stable man, and the laundress Annie, who lives out. So the work is pretty well divided. And then there is Miss Wells, the trained nurse for Mrs. Blaydon. The doctor may have told you that Mrs. Blaydon never leaves her room.” Ellen lost track of this catalogue of servants, yet she felt a happy sense of importance in listening to these matter-of-fact and self-respecting details. It was as though she were being taken into the confidence of the household. She tried to attend Mrs. Seymour’s every word with seriousness, and felt her embarrassment dropping away from her. “Dr. Schottman tells me that you have been the only help in the family. I suppose you have done only plain cooking?” “Yes, ma’am.” “Well, you will have no trouble learning our likes and dislikes, and the way things must be served. Miss Wells will prepare most of Mrs. Blaydon’s meals, which are separate. The present cook is to stay until the end of the month, and that will give you plenty of time to catch on. And you mustn’t be afraid. We expect to make allowances. Of course, your wages will begin at once, but I can’t tell just what they should be until we try you, so we won’t discuss that to-day.” “Oh, not at all, ma’am--” began Ellen, and stopped suddenly. “Aunt Mathilda” covered her embarrassment by rising, and Ellen stood also, with her child in her arms. The act brought them close enough together for Mrs. Seymour to see the baby’s face. “What a sweet little thing,” she said, and smiled cordially at Ellen. “I hope you are going to be happy here, Mrs. Williams. Marie will show you your room and give you everything you need. Don’t bother about your bags. John can take them up at once.”