As soon as she had gone, the boarder turned to me and said:

"I'll tell you what it is. She's working herself sick."

"Sick?" said I. "Nonsense!"

"No nonsense about it," he replied.

The truth was, that the boarder was right and I was wrong. We had
spent several months at Rudder Grange, and during this time
Euphemia had been working very hard, and she really did begin to
look pale and thin. Indeed, it would be very wearying for any
woman of culture and refinement, unused to house-work, to cook and
care for two men, and to do all the work of a canal-boat besides.

But I saw Euphemia so constantly, and thought so much of her, and
had her image so continually in my heart, that I did not notice
this until our boarder now called my attention to it. I was sorry
that he had to do it.

"If I were in your place," said he, "I would get her a servant."

"If you were in my place," I replied, somewhat cuttingly, "you
would probably suggest a lot of little things which would make
everything very easy for her."

"I'd try to," he answered, without getting in the least angry.

Although I felt annoyed that he had suggested it, still I made up