ekeeper."

"Oh, yes, Mrs. Whateley."

"She is a goot woman when you know her," explained the doctor. "She only
wants managing."

"Pooh!" ejaculated Peter.

"Why do you say dat?" inquired the doctor.

"You! bringing up a headstrong girl. The idea!"

"I should be kind, but firm."

"You don't know her."

"How long haf you known her?"

"Anyhow, I'm not a soft-hearted sentimentalist that would just ruin the
child."

"Girls are not boys," persisted the doctor; "dey want different
treatment."

"Well, I'm not a brute!" snarled Peter. "Besides, suppose she turns out
rubbish! What do you know about her?"

"I take my chance," agreed the generous doctor.

"It wouldn't be fair," retorted honest Peter.

"Tink it over," said the doctor. "A place is never home widout de leedle
feet. We Englishmen love de home. You are different. You haf no
sentiment."

"I cannot help feeling," explained Peter, "a sense of duty in this
matter. The child came to me. It is as if this thing had been laid upon
me."

"If you look upon id dat way, Peter," sighed the doctor.

"With sentiment," went on Peter, "I have nothing to do; but duty--duty is
quite another thing." Peter, feeling himself an ancient Roman, thanked
the doctor and shook hands with him.

Tommy, summoned, appeared.

"The doctor, Tommy," said Peter, without looking up from his writing,
"gives a very satisfactory account of you. So you can stop."

"Told you so," returned Tommy. "Might have saved your money."

"But we shall have to find you another name."

"What for?"

"If you are to be a housekeeper, you must be a girl."

"Don't like girls."

"Can't say I think much of them myself, Tommy. We must make the best of
it. To begin with, we must get you proper clothes."

"Hate skirts. They hamper you."

"Tommy," said Peter severely, "don't argue."

"Pointing out facts ain't arguing," argued Tommy. "They do hamper you.
You try 'em."

The clothes were quickly made, and after a while they came to fit; but
the name proved more difficult of adjustment. A sweet-faced, laughing
lady, known to fame by a title respectable and orthodox, appears an
honoured guest to-day at many a literary gathering. But the old fellows,
pressing round, still call her "Tommy."

The week's trial came to an end. Peter, whose digestion was delicate,
had had a happy thought.

"What I propose, Tommy--I mean Jane," said Peter, "is that we should get
in a woman to do just t