“Yes; but before I particularise I must express my general satisfaction in him as a man-body. I had no idea that man bodies in a house were so perfectly admirable.” “I've sometimes feared that we were not fully appreciated,” said Sewell. “Well?” “The house is another thing with a man-body in it. I've often gone without little things I wanted, simply because I hated to make Sarah bring them, and because I hated still worse to go after them, knowing we were both weakly and tired. Now I deny myself nothing. I make Lemuel fetch and carry without remorse, from morning till night. I never knew it before, but the man-body seems never to be tired, or ill, or sleepy.” “Yes,” said Sewell, “that is often the idea of the woman-body. I'm not sure that it's correct.” “Oh, _don't_ attack it!” implored Miss Vane. “You don't _know_ what a blessing it is. Then, the man-body never complains, and I can't see that he expects anything more in an order than the clear understanding of it. He doesn't expect it to be accounted for in any way; the fact that you say you want a thing is enough. It is very strange. Then the moral support of the presence of a man-body is enormous. I now know that I have never slept soundly since I have kept house alone--that I have never passed a night without hearing burglars or smelling fire.” “And now?” “And now I shouldn't mind a legion of burglars in the house; I shouldn't mind being burned in my bed every night. I feel that Lemuel is in charge, and that nothing can happen.” “Is he really so satisfactory?” asked Sewell, exhaling a deep relief. “He is, indeed,” said Miss Vane. “I couldn't, exaggerate it.” “Well, well! Don't try. We are finite, after all, you know. Do you think it can last?” “I have thought of that,” answered Miss Vane. “I don't see why it shouldn't last. I have tried to believe that I did a foolish thing in coming to your rescue, but I can't see that I did. I don't see why it shouldn't last as long as Lemuel chooses. And he seems perfectly contented with his lot. He doesn't seem to regard it as domestic service, but as domestication, and he patronises our inefficiency while he spares it. His common-sense is extraordinary--it's exemplary; it almost makes one wish to have common-sense one's-self.” They had now got pretty far from the original proposition, and Sewell returned to it with the question, “Well, and how does he supplement you singularly?” “Oh! oh, yes!” said Miss Vane. “I could hardly tell you without going into too deep a study of character.” “I'm rather fond of that,” suggested the minister. “Yes, and I've no doubt we should all work very nicely into a sermon as illustrations; but I can't more than indicate the different cases. In the first place, Jane's forgetfulness seems to be growing upon her, and since Lemuel came she's abandoned herself to ecstasies of oblivion.” “Yes?” “Yes. She's quite given over remembering _any_thing, because she knows that he will remember _every_thing.”