207 She romanced a dark-haired farmer a few times, having long since forgotten his name. He told her something about music, the great world outside. "When did you see him, my love?" "A short time ago," replied the housekeeper, unsuspiciously. She was breathing hard, dragging for air, half in fright and half because the sudden effort had used up what little air she had managed to draw so briefly. She looked up, and recognized Mr. His hat was placed upon one pole, his wig on another. “What a hideous repertoire! If you are in earnest about wanting to earn money, why on earth don’t you accept an engagement here?” “An engagement?” she queried. Here he found another strong door, making the fifth he had encountered.
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