help, and as you have been speaking I have tried to
think of some way. The fact that your house is so lonely is just the
reason why I should like to work in it. As you can understand, I have
no wish to meet strangers. Now, sir, I am willing to work for very
little; I should be glad to find such a quiet refuge for simply my
board and clothes, and I would do my very best and try to learn what I
did not know. It seems to me that if I worked for so little you might
think you could afford to hire some elderly woman also?" and she looked
at him in the eager hope that he would accept her proposition.

He shook his head as he replied, "I don't know of any such person. I
took the best one in this house, and you know how she turned out."

"Perhaps Mr. Watterly may know of someone else," she faltered. She was
now deeply troubled and perplexed again, supposing that he was about to
renew his first proposition that she should be his only help.

"If Mr. Watterly did know of anyone I would make the trial, but he does
not. Your offer is very considerate and reasonable, but--" and he
hesitated again, scarcely knowing how to go on.

"I am sorry, sir," she said, rising, as if to end the interview.

"Stay," he said, "you do not understand me yet. Of course I should not
make you the same offer that I did at first, after seeing your feeling
about it, and I respect you all the more because you so respect
yourself. What I had in mind was to give you my name, and it's an
honest name. If we were married it would be perfectly proper for you
to go with me, and no one could say a word against either of us."

"Oh!" she gasped, in strong agitation and surprise.

"Now don't be so taken aback. It's just as easy for you to refuse as
it is to speak, but listen first. What seems strange and unexpected
may be the most sensible thing for us both. You have your side of the
case to think of just as truly as I have mine; and I'm not forgetting,
and I don't ask you to forget, that I'm still talking business. You
and I have both been through too much trouble and loss to say any silly
nonsense to each other. You've heard my story, yet I'm almost a
stranger to you as you are to me. We'd both have to take considerable
on trust. Yet I know I'm honest and well-meaning, and I believe you
are. Now look at it. Here we are, both much alone in the world--both
wishing to live a retired, quiet life. I don't care a rap for what
people say as long as I