the head waiter had officially placed at her feet. They seldom sat in the
parlor where the ladies met, after dinner; they talked only to each
other; and there, as elsewhere, the girl kept her filial care of the old
woman. The question of her relation to Mrs. Lander became so pressing
among several of the guests that, after Clementina had watched over the
banisters, with throbbing heart and feet, a little dance one night which
the other girls had got up among themselves, and had fled back to her
room at the approach of one of the kindlier and bolder of them, the
landlord felt forced to learn from Mrs. Lander how Miss Claxon was to be
regarded. He managed delicately, by saying he would give the Sunday paper
she had ordered to her nurse, "Or, I beg your pardon," he added, as if he
had made a mistake. "Why, she a'n't my nuhse," Mrs. Lander explained,
simply, neither annoyed nor amused; "she's just a young lady that's
visiting me, as you may say," and this put an end to the misgiving among
the ladies. But it suggested something to Mrs. Lander, and a few days
afterwards, when they came out from Boston where they had been shopping,
and she had been lavishing a bewildering waste of gloves, hats, shoes,
capes and gowns upon Clementina, she said, "I'll tell you what. We've got
to have a maid."

"A maid?" cried the girl.

"It isn't me, or my things I want her for," said Mrs. Lander. "It's you
and these dresses of youas. I presume you could look afta them, come to
give youa mind to it; but I don't want to have you tied up to a lot of
clothes; and I presume we should find her a comfo't in moa ways than one,
both of us. I don't know what we shall want her to do, exactly; but I
guess she will, if she undastands her business, and I want you should go
in with me, to-morror, and find one. I'll speak to some of the ladies,
and find out whe's the best place to go, and we'll get the best there