Letters to copy? Doubtless. Miss Galindo could come up to the Hall; she
should have a room to herself; she wrote a beautiful hand; and writing
would save her eyesight. "Capability with regard to accounts?" My lady
would answer for that too; and for more than Mr. Horner seemed to think
it necessary to inquire about. Miss Galindo was by birth and breeding a
lady of the strictest honour, and would, if possible, forget the
substance of any letters that passed through her hands; at any rate, no
one would ever hear of them again from her. "Remuneration?" Oh! as for
that, Lady Ludlow would herself take care that it was managed in the most
delicate manner possible. She would send to invite Miss Galindo to tea
at the Hall that very afternoon, if Mr. Horner would only give her
ladyship the slightest idea of the average length of time that my lady
was to request Miss Galindo to sacrifice to her daily. "Three hours!
Very well." Mr. Horner looked very grave as he passed the windows of the
room where I lay. I don't think he liked the idea of Miss Galindo as a
clerk.

Lady Ludlow's invitations were like royal commands. Indeed, the village
was too quiet to allow the inhabitants to have many evening engagements
of any kind. Now and then, Mr. and Mrs. Horner gave a tea and supper to
the principal tenants and their wives, to which the clergyman was
invited, and Miss Galindo, Mrs. Medlicott, and one or two other spinsters
and widows. The glory of the supper-table on these occasions was
invariably furnished by her ladyship: it was a cold roasted peacock, with
his tail stuck out as if in life. Mrs. Medlicott would take up the whole
morning arranging the feathers in the proper semicircle, and was always
pleased with the wonder and admiration it excited. It was considered a
due reward and fitting compliment to her exertions that Mr. Horner always
took her in to supper, and placed her opposite to the magnificent dish,
at which she sweetly smiled all the time they were at table. But since