“WANTED.—By an invalid lady, whose home is in the country, a young
woman, who will be both useful and agreeable, either as a companion or
waiting-maid. No objection will be raised if the woman is married, and
unfortunate, or has a child a few months old.
“Address,
“A. E. R., Snowdon, Hampden Co., Mass”
“That is what will assure her, should she ever see it,” Anna said,
pointing to the lines,——
“No objection raised if the young woman is married and unfortunate, or
has a child a few months old.”
Alice thought it the queerest advertisement she had ever seen, but Anna
was privileged to do queer things, and folding the paper, she went out
into the hall, where the doctor sat waiting for her. Handing him the
note, she was about to explain its import, when Anna joined her, and
explained herself, charging him to attend to it the very first thing.
John’s mustached lip curled a little scornfully as he read it.
“Why, puss, that girl or woman is in Georgia by this time, and as the
result of this, Terrace Hill will be thronged with unfortunate women and
children, desiring situations. They’ll stand three deep from the park
gate to the house. Better let me burn this, as I did the other, and not
be foolish. She will never see it,” and John made a gesture as if he
would put it in the stove, but Anna caught his hand, saying imploringly,
“Please humor me this once. She may see it, and I’m so interested.”
Anna was always humored, and so the doctor placed in his memorandum book
the note, then turning to Alice he addressed her in so low a tone that
Anna readily took the hint and left them together. Dr. Richards was not
intending to be gone long, he said, though the time would seem a little
eternity, so much was his heart now bound up in Snowdon.
Afraid lest he might say something more of the same nature, Alice
hastened to ask if he had seen her mother and what he thought of her.
“I stepped in for a moment while you were in the library,” he replied.
“She seemed to have a high fever, and I fancied it increased while I
stood by her. I am sorry to leave while she is so sick, but remember
that if anything happens you will be dearer to me than ever,” and the
doctor pressed the little hand which he took in his to say good-bye, for
now he must really go.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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