"'Eighteen last birthday--only just turned eighteen, and she's much younger than most girls of eighteen in all her ways and thoughts. She's clever enough with her hands, poor child. Nothing lazy or lolloping about her--made her own bed and swept and tidied her own room without a word from me; but there's a helplessness somewhere. I believe the weakness is in her thoughts. I don't know how she'll ever set about getting a situation--I don't know what kind of situation she's fit for. She's much too young and too pretty for a governess.' "'Not too young for a nursery-governess, surely.' "'A nursery-governess means a nursery-maid without a cap, Mr. George. I shouldn't like to see her brought to that. I've taken to her already. Benjamin says, with her sweet voice and pretty face, she ought to go on the stage.' "I was horrified at the idea. "'Martha, how can you speak of such a thing? Have you any idea of what the life of a theatre means for an inexperienced girl--for a beautiful girl, most of all?' "'Oh, I've heard there are temptations; but a prudent young woman can take care of herself anywhere, Mr. George; and an imprudent young woman will go wrong in a country parsonage, or in a nunnery. If Miss Campbell is to earn her own living, she'll have to face dangers and temptations, go where she may. She'll have to take care of herself, poor child. There'll be nobody else to take care of her. I've heard that young women are well looked after in the better class of theatres--at Mr. Charles Kean's, for instance. I knew a young person that used to walk on in _Louis the Eleventh_--dressed as a page, in blue and gold--and she told me that Mr. and Mrs. Charles Kean was _that_ particular----' "'The Keans are making a farewell tour in Australia, and will never go into management again, Martha. You are talking nonsense.' "Poor Martha looked crestfallen at this reproof. "'I dare say I am, Mr. George; but, for all that, I don't think Miss Campbell will ever do much as a governess. It isn't in her. There's a helplessness, and a bendingness, and droopingness, if I may say so, about her character that won't do for a governess. The only mistress that would keep her is the kind of mistress that would make a slave of her.' "'Hard lines,' I said, getting up and walking about the little back parlour. "It was a third room quite at the back of the substantial Georgian house; and there was scant space for my restlessness between the old square piano, which served as a sideboard, and the fireplace by which my dear old Martha sat looking at me with a perturbed countenance.