and appears like a
nice, conscientious person."

"Tell us the rest; conceal nothing," I said sternly.

"She--she thinks that we have saved her life, and she feels that she
belongs to us," faltered Salemina.

"Belongs to us!" we cried in a duet. "Was there ever such a base reward
given to virtue; ever such an unwelcome expression of gratitude! Belong
to us, indeed! We can't have her; we won't have her. Were you perfectly
frank with her?"

"I tried to be, but she almost insisted; she has set her heart upon
being our maid."

"Does she know how to be a maid?"

"No, but she is extremely teachable, she says."

"I have my doubts," remarked Francesca; "a liking for personal service
is not a distinguishing characteristic of New Englanders; they are
not the stuff of which maids are made. If she were French or German or
Senegambian, in fact anything but a Saleminian, we might use her; we
have always said we needed some one."

Salemina brightened. "I thought myself it might be rather nice--that is,
I thought it might be a way out of the difficulty. Penelope had thought
at one time of bringing a maid, and it would save us a great deal of
trouble. The doctor thinks she could travel a short distance in a few
days; perhaps it is a Providence in disguise."

"The disguise is perfect," murmured Francesca.

"You see," Salemina continued, "when the poor thing tottered along the
wharf the stewardess laid her on the pile of wool sacks-"

"Like a dying Chancellor," again interpolated the irrepressible.

"And ran off to help another passenger. When she opened her eyes, she
saw straight in front of her, in huge letters, 'Salem, Mass., U.S.A.'
It loomed before her despairing vision, I suppose, like a great ark
of refuge, and seemed to her in her half-dazed condition not only a
reminder, but almost a message from home. She had then no thought of
ever seeing the owner; she says she felt only that she should like
to die quietly on anything marked 'Salem, Mass.' Go in to see her
presently, Penelope, and make up your own mind about her. See if you
can persuade her to--to--well, to give us up. Try to get her out of the
notion of being our maid. She is so firm; I never saw so feeble a person
who could be so firm; and what in the world shall we do with her if she
keeps on insisting, in her nervous state?"

"My idea would be," I suggested, "to engage her provisionally, if we
must, not because we want her, but because her heart is weak. I