"My aunt?" Miss Ardleigh's hazel eyes, which now appeared to be flecked with a deeper green, fastened on his. "Mr. Kellerman," she said firmly, "I have no such relation."
"My dear Miss Ardleigh," Mr. Kellerman said with exaggerated patience, "we will never get to the bottom of this if you persist in interrupting me." He moved the top paper a quarter of an inch. "May I resume, please?"
The young woman's mouth tightened. She nodded imperceptibly.
"Miss Sabrina Ardleigh, of Bishop's Keep, Essex, England," he continued, "contacted me several weeks ago through her British solicitors, the firm of Edgecombe, Har-court, and Harcourt. Miss Ardleigh identified herself as an aunt of yourself, the sister of one Thomas Ardleigh, whom public record shows to have been your father. She wished me to discover whether at the present time you might be a suitable secretary and companion to her. Having made the necessary inquiries, I have conveyed to Mr. Winston Edgecombe, the firm's senior partner and her personal representative, my judgment that, upon a trial basis, you would indeed be suitable for such employment."
"Employment!" Miss Ardleigh exclaimed in a tone of restrained surprise. "In England?"
Mr. Kellerman ignored the interruption. "Mrs. Schreiber, your most recent employer, left ample testimony to your intelligence and integrity and to your competence as an amanuensis. She was apparently much impressed by the fact that you acquired German in order to assist her with her letters and to read to her, and by your skill in manipulating a typewriter. That, at least, is her attorney's recollection. Upon my inquiry, your previous employer, Mrs. Isabella Dawson, certified to me that you were able and industrious in your care of her children"-he cleared his throat-"although not, in Mrs. Dawson's words, 'a natural-born lover of babes.' "
He paused. Miss Ardleigh's head was bowed, her eyes
fixed on her laced fingers. "Do you have any question to this point?"
Miss Ardleigh looked up. "Mrs. Schreiber's attorney and Mrs. Dawson-these are the sum of your inquiries?''
Feeling somewhat surprised by the question, Mr. Keller-man countered with a prudent one of his own. "Are there positions I have overlooked-other than your efforts to find secretarial employment with the publishing firm of Frank Leslie?"
The answer, which was tempered with a smile, came with sufficient readiness to satisfy whatever suspicions he might have begun to entertain. "No, sir," Miss Ardleigh said, "there are no other positions. I have been employed for regular wages by no persons other than the two in your report."
He nodded. "Very well, then, I shall proceed. Having received and conveyed these satisfactory reports of your abilities, and the fact that you are presently unengaged and at leisure, I received yesterday a response from Miss Ardleigh, relayed by cable through Mr. Edgecombe. It directs me to make the following offer." He picked up a yellow Western Union cable and read. " 'In return for a generous annual salary, board, and room at Bishop's Keep, Dedham, as well as the cost of transportation from America to said location, Miss Sabrina Ardleigh proposes to engage Miss Kathryn Ardleigh as her secretary and personal companion for a trial period of twelve months. If the arrangement is satisfactory to both parties, it may be continued indefinitely; if at any time it becomes unsatisfactory to either party, Miss Kathryn Ardleigh will receive wages earned to date and return fare to America.' " He put down the paper. ' 'You are asked to respond by cable as soon as possible."
Miss Ardleigh unclasped her fingers and clasped them again, although without nervousness. Calm as a custard, she was, Mr. Kellerman thought, and her air of thoughtful self-possession disconcerted him. Most of the women of his acquaintance would have been flung into an absolute tizzy by the revelation of a hitherto unknown aunt who proposed employment, not to mention the opportunity of an exotic sea voyage and a visit to the romantic-sounding Bishop's Keep.
But Miss Ardleigh, it seemed, was concerned with practical, not romantic or exotic, matters.
"This aunt of mine, of what age is she?" she asked. "What is her health? Is she a traveler or does she prefer to stay at home? What duties are expected of me?"
Mr. Kellerman spoke regretfully. "I am afraid I cannot answer your questions, Miss Ardleigh, for I have not met the lady. Neither she nor Mr. Edgecombe offered further details of the post. I infer," he added, "based on the expense which she incurred to confirm your suitability, that your aunt is quite well off." He coughed delicately.
Miss Ardleigh persisted. "Bishop's Keep. What kind of place is it? What about Dedham? And what does Miss Ardleigh consider a 'generous salary'?"
' 'Dedham, I understand, is a small village some sixty miles to the north and east of London, ten miles from the town of Colchester. Its chief claim to fame, I recall, is that it lies near the home of John Constable, the famous painter. As to Bishop's Keep, I cannot speak, nor to the amount of the salary, nor to Miss Ardleigh's definition of 'generous.' "
Miss Ardleigh lifted her chin. "I am to know nothing of my employer nor of the position," she said tartly, "and yet I am asked to commit myself to a full year's employment in a foreign land, across the ocean from my own." She paused. "It would appear that I am being asked to buy a pig in a poke."
"So it would appear, madam," Mr. Kellerman said, "although I might note that such a position offers more in the way of… say, adventure, than a place at a publishing house. If, indeed, adventure is to your liking," he added hastily. He paused. "Perhaps you wish some time to reflect or to consult those elders who might guide you. Your uncle O'Malley, for instance, or your priest. It is, after all, a matter of some significance."
"It is indeed," Miss Ardleigh said. She looked down at her hands and then up again, her steady eyes clear and direct-quite her best feature, Mr. Kellerman decided, excepting perhaps that deep voice, that reminded him somehow of brown velvet. "However, since there is little information of
real substance upon which to reflect, and since no more will be forthcoming, reflection is likely to prove unprofitable. While I respect my uncle O'Malley, his opinion can only be less well informed than my own." Her smile was dry. "And as to a priest, Mr. Kellerman, any Pinkerton's man worth his salt would have ascertained that I am not a practicing Catholic. I am, in fact, a freethinker."
Mr. Kellerman winced. Miss Ardleigh had reinforced his perception that hers was a too-willful nature. But she was regrettably correct. He had not thought to report her failure to attend church services, and he should have; it might have made a difference to her prospective employer. However, it was too late now. He had tendered the offer and the young woman was pulling on her gloves.
She picked up her reticule and stood up. "Mr. Kellerman," she said, "please reply to Miss Ardleigh's cable with the simple word, 'Yes.' "
Mr. Kellerman stood up as well, surprised by the precipitous response but glad for the end of the interview. Miss Ardleigh was a young woman much too definite in her inclinations, decidedly unfeminine in her appearance, and entirely too forthright. What would be the outcome of this unusual enterprise? How would her new employer respond to this rather too-assertive person?
These questions Mr. Kellerman quickly dismissed as beyond his responsibility. After all, it was Miss Sabrina Ardleigh who was buying a pig in a poke.
4
"With the recent appearance or emulsion papers and the further development or tne single-lens reflex camera, photography has become portable, making it an outstandingly useful tool. A single photograph is superior to a hall-dozen sketches, for the camera reveals what the eye beholds. With the camera, we may safely say it is no longer possible to harbour illusions."