‘You said you would do as I wished. I wish you to have a new position in this house. You shall no longer be called a servant; you shall be our housekeeper, and our friend. I will have it, I tell you!’ he cried angrily. ‘You shall sit at table with us, and live with us. Nancy still has sense enough to acknowledge that this is only your just reward; from her, I know, there won’t be a word of objection. What can you have to say against it?’ The woman was pale with emotion. Her reserve and sensibility shrank from what seemed to her an invidious honour, yet she durst not irritate the sick man by opposition. ‘It will make Nancy think,’ he pursued, with emphasis. ‘It will help her, perhaps, to see the difference between worthless women who put themselves forward, and the women of real value who make no pretences. Perhaps it isn’t too late to set good examples before her. I’ve never found her ill-natured, though she’s wilful; it isn’t her heart that’s wrong--I hope and think not--only her mind, that’s got stuffed with foolish ideas. Since her grandmother’s death she’s had no guidance. You shall talk to her as a woman can; not all at once, but when she’s used to thinking of you in this new way.’ ‘You are forgetting her friends,’ Mary said at length, with eyes of earnest appeal. ‘Her friends? She’s better without such friends. There’s one thing I used to hope, but I’ve given it up. I thought once that she might have come to a liking for Samuel Barmby, but now I don’t think she ever will, and I believe it’s her friends that are to blame for it. One thing I know, that she’ll never meet with any one who will make her so good a husband as he would. We don’t think alike in every way; he’s a young man, and has the new ideas; but I’ve known him since he was a boy, and I respect his character. He has a conscience, which is no common thing now-a-days. He lives a clean, homely life--and you won’t find many of his age who do. Nancy thinks herself a thousand times too good for him; I only hope he mayn’t prove a great deal too good for _her_. But I’ve given up that thought. I’ve never spoken to her about it, and I never shall; no good comes of forcing a girl’s inclination. I only tell you of it, Mary, because I want you to understand what has been going on.’ They heard a bell ring; that of the front door. ‘It’ll be Miss. Nancy,’ said Mary, rising. ‘Go to the door then. If it’s Nancy, tell her I want to speak to her, and come back yourself.’ ‘Mr. Lord--’ ‘Do as I tell you--at once!’ All the latent force of Stephen’s character now declared itself. He stood upright, his face stern and dignified. In a few moments, Nancy entered the room, and Mary followed her at a distance.