“Really, Miss Malgregor,” he affirmed, “I’m afraid there isn’t much of anything that you _won’t_ be expected to do. And as to your ‘Thursdays out’? Ha! if you have ever yet found a way to temper the wind of your obligations to the shorn lamb of your pleasures, you have discovered something that I myself have never yet succeeded in discovering. And as to ‘wages’? Yes, I want to talk everything quite frankly. In addition to my average yearly earnings, which are by no means small, I have a reasonably large private fortune. Within normal limits there is no luxury, I think, that you cannot hope to have. Also, exclusive of the independent income which I should like to settle upon you, I should be very glad to finance for you any reasonable dreams that you may cherish concerning your family in Nova Scotia. Also, though the offer looks small and unimportant to you now, it is liable to loom pretty large to you later; also, I will personally guarantee to you, at some time every year, an unfettered, perfectly independent two-months’ holiday. So the offer stands--my ‘name and fame,’ if those mean anything to you, financial independence, an assured ‘breathing spell’ for at least two months out of twelve, and at last, but not least, my eternal gratitude. ‘General heartwork for a family of two!’ There, have I made the task perfectly clear to you? Not everything to be done all at once, you know; but immediately where necessity urges it, gradually as confidence inspires it, ultimately if affection justifies it, every womanish thing that needs to be done in a man’s and a child’s neglected lives? Do you understand?” “Yes, sir,” said the White Linen Nurse.