“Well,” Salome calmly replied, and not in the least disconcerted by this way of stating the matter, although she was secretly amused, “if you should judge that I would not be congenial to you, and I should feel that I could not be happy in serving you, it would, of course, be best for us not to enter into any agreement; do you not think so?” “Hum—what’s your name?” “Salome Howland.” She had decided that it would be best to go back to the old name, after all, for if she was to remain in New York she feared the name of Winthrop would attract attention and inquiry. “Howland—Howland! Where have I heard that name before?” mused Miss Leonard, bending a searching look upon her. Then as Salome made no reply, she added curtly, “You don’t look strong enough to be a nurse.” “I know that I am rather slightly built,” Salome answered, thinking it best not to say anything about her recent illness, “but I have been trained as a nurse, and I believe I shall be able to render any service you may require, since you do not appear to be very ill.” “Oh, you’re a trained nurse, then; where were you trained?” “In the City Hospital of Boston.” “Have you recommendations?” “No, madam, but I can easily obtain them if you desire; or you can do so if you think best, by writing to Dr. Hunt, who is the head physician in the institution.” “Well, I’m not ill very often, at the same time I want my companion to be able to take care of me if I should happen to be. When did you leave Boston?” “Less than three months ago,” Salome answered, with lips that were not quite steady, as she remembered all that occurred within that time. “Have you been in New York all that time?” “Yes, madam.” “What have you been doing?” “Nothing but—trying to rest and recruit. I had overtaxed myself a little in Boston.” Oh, how Salome wished she would stop questioning her about the past! “Have you relatives in this city?” “No, madam; neither a home nor relatives.” The shrewd eyes watching her noticed the pathetic little quiver about the sweet lips, and softened a trifle. “Now about your education,” Miss Leonard continued, abruptly changing the subject. “Can you read well?” “Of that you can judge for yourself, if you will allow me to read you something,” Salome smilingly returned. “Well, here is an article on electro-plating; let me see what you can make of it,” and the woman pushed a magazine across the table toward her companion. Salome seated herself opposite her critic, and began to read in clear, sweet tones, articulating distinctly, and rendering the article, which would have interested no one but an electrician, with perfect intelligence. “That will do,” said Miss Leonard, interrupting her. “Now here is a Paris paper—give me some French news; that is, if you know the language.” “I can read French,” Salome said quietly, as she took the paper; and instantly she fell to reading like a veritable Frenchwoman.