She was somewhat surprised at seeing Mr. Blair saunter in; the kitchen was not the place for any man, let alone a boarder. He was, however, oblivious of the proprieties. He offered to, and insisted upon, drying the dishes for her. Humorously he tied about his ample middle a gingham apron and set to work slowly but competently. He gave her many points, too, about how things might be done better, how she could save steps, and so forth. About the range, and the coal, about soaps, about how a kitchen should be arranged efficiently. Then, when everything was neat and clean, the fire banked and Michael and his brethren locked in the cellar, he followed Minnie into the parlour, bringing a plate of the fudge. They sat up unusually late, very cosy, about the blue china lamp, eating Minnie’s candy and hearing Mr. Blair’s stately voice telling of dairy farming in Holland. He admitted that he had never been there, but he knew. This was a curious feature about Mr. Blair; he always spoke as a witness, irrefutable and calmly positive; apparently his knowledge came through inspiration or clairvoyance, for he never mentioned having read or heard any of it. “Well,” said the old lady to Minnie, as they were going up to bed, “I don’t know _when_ I’ve spent a pleasanter evening!” II Mr. Blair had a remarkable opportunity to display his quality the next day, for the old lady had another of her “attacks.” He at once assumed a position of authority. He sat by her bedside making the most professional enquiries, and establishing boundless confidence by his graveness and his assurance. When the doctor arrived, he met him as a colleague, conferred secretly with him, gave his own opinion and listened with professional courtesy to that of the other. Then went out to the stable to comfort Minnie. “It is not immediately serious,” he told her; “I studied medicine for some time, and I understand these things.” He not only comforted Minnie, but he helped her in material ways. He was very “handy,” somewhat in her own manner. That is, he had a certain manual facility, and was very easily satisfied: he didn’t require his “jobs” either to look well or to wear well. He was of a most domestic disposition. He really enjoyed sitting in the kitchen and peeling potatoes while he talked; he even swept the parlour with wet tea leaves. He put up shelves and hooks, convenient although not quite trustworthy; he carried the old lady’s trays upstairs, made the coffee for breakfast after a scientific method which required a large amount of coffee and took quite half an hour; he looked after the fire night and morning; did everything except the literary work he had come there to do.