‘Quite. I see her getting the jar ready every morning when I am in the kitchen attending to other little things. I am not afraid of working in the kitchen, you know, Lucius.’ ‘I know that you are the most domestic and skilful among women, and that you will make a model wife, darling,’ he answered tenderly. ‘For a poor man, perhaps,’ she answered, with the smile that had been rare of late, ‘not for a rich one. I should not know how to spend money, or to give dinner-parties, or to dress fashionably.’ ‘That kind of knowledge would come with the occasion. When I am a famous doctor you shall be a lady of fashion. But to return to the diet question. You are assured that there is perfect cleanliness in the preparation of your grandfather’s food—no neglected copper saucepans used, for instance?’ ‘There is not such a thing as a copper saucepan in the house. What made you ask the question?’ ‘Mr. Sivewright has complained lately of occasional attacks of nausea, and I am unable to account for the symptom. That is what makes me anxious about the preparation of his food.’ ‘Would it be any satisfaction to you if I were to prepare everything myself?’ ‘A very great satisfaction.’ ‘Then I will do it, Lucius. Wincher may feel a little offended, but I will try and reconcile her to my interference. It was a great privilege to be allowed to make the jellies.’ ‘Never mind if she is vexed, darling; a few sweet words from you will soon smooth her ruffled feathers. I shall be glad to know that you prepare everything for the invalid. And I would not do it in the kitchen, where Wincher might interfere. Have a fire in the little dressing-room next your grandfather’s room, and have your saucepans and beef-tea and so on up there. By that means you will be able to give him what he wants at any moment, without delay.’ ‘I will do so, Lucius. But I fear you think my grandfather in danger.’ ‘Not exactly in danger, darling. But he is very ill, and I have been thinking it might be better for you to have a nurse. I don’t say that he requires any one to sit up at night with him. He is not ill enough for that. I am only afraid that the care he requires may be too much for you.’ ‘It is not too much for me, Lucius,’ answered the girl eagerly. ‘I would not have a stranger about him for worlds. The sight of a sick nurse would kill him.’ ‘That is a foolish prejudice, Lucille.’ ‘It may be; and when you find I nurse him badly, or neglect him, you may bring a stranger. Till then I claim the right to wait upon him, with Jacob Wincher’s assistance. He has been my grandfather’s valet—giving the little help his master would ever accept—for the last twenty years.’ ‘And you have perfect confidence in Jacob Wincher?’ ‘Confidence!’ exclaimed Lucille, with a wondering look. ‘I have known him all my life, and seen his devotion to my grandfather. What reason could I have to doubt him?’