"Suppose I take you on trial for a couple of weeks," she ventured, surrendering to his smile and the light in his unservile eyes. Considering the matter settled, she went on brusquely: "How old are you, Trotter?" "Thirty." "Are you married? I never employ married men. Their wives are always having babies or operations or something disagreeable and unnecessary." "I am not married, Mrs. Millidew." "Who was your last employer in England?" "His Majesty King George the Fifth," said Trotter calmly. Her eyes bulged. "What?" she cried. Then her eyes narrowed. "And do you mean to tell me you didn't wear a uniform when you worked for him?" "I wore a uniform, madam." "Umph! America has spoiled you, I see. That's always the way. Independence is a curse. Have you ever been arrested? Wait! Don't answer. I withdraw the question. You would only lie, and that is a bad way to begin." "I lie only when it is absolutely necessary, Mrs. Millidew. In police courts, for example." "Good! Now, you are young, good looking and likely to be spoiled. It must be understood in the beginning, Trotter, that there is to be no foolishness with women." She regarded him severely. "No foolishness whatsoever," said he humbly, raising his eyes to heaven. "How long were you employed in your last job--ah, situation?" "Not quite a twelve-month, madam." "And now," she said, with a graciousness that surprised her, "perhaps you would like to put a few questions to me. The cooks always do." He smiled more engagingly than ever. "As they say in the advertisements of lost jewellery, madam,--'no questions asked,'" he said. "Eh? Oh, I see. Rather good. I hope you know your place, though," she added, narrowly. "I don't approve of freshness." "No more do I," said he, agreeably. "I suppose you are accustomed to driving in--er--in good society, Trotter. You know what I mean." "Perfectly. I have driven in the very best, madam, if I do say it as shouldn't. Beg pardon, I daresay you mean smart society?" He appeared to be very much concerned, even going so far as to send an appraising eye around the room,--doubtless for the purpose of satisfying himself that _she_ was quite up to the standard. "Of course," she said hastily. Something told her that if she didn't nab him on the spot he would get away from her. "Can you start in at once, Trotter?" "We have not agreed upon the wages, madam." "I have never paid less than forty a week," she said stiffly. "Even for bad ones," she added. He smiled, but said nothing, apparently waiting for her to proceed. "Would fifty a week suit you?" she asked, after a long pause. She was a little helpless. "Quite," said he. "It's a lot of money," she murmured. "But I like the way you speak English. By the way, let me hear you say: 'It is half after four, madam. Are you going on to Mrs. Brown's.'" Trotter laid himself out. He said "hawf-paast," and "fou-ah," and "Meddem," and "gehing," in a way that delighted her.