"
"And now," said Mrs. Bates, resuming, "how much is it going to take to
start things? I should think that five hundred dollars would do to get
you under way." She opened the door. "Miss Peters, won't you please make
out a check for five hun--"
"Oh, bless your soul!" cried Jane, "we don't need but three hundred all
together, and I can't have one woman--"
"Three hundred, then," Mrs. Bates called into the next room.
"Oh, goodness me!" cried Jane, despairingly, "I don't want one woman to
give it all. I've got a whole list here. You're the first one I've seen."
"Well, how much, then? Fifty?"
"Fifty, yes. That's quite as much as I expected--more."
"Fifty, Miss Peters; payable to Jane Marshall." She looked at Jane
quizzically. "You _are_ unique, sure enough."
"I want to be fair," protested Jane.
The door closed on Miss Peters. Mrs. Bates dropped her voice. "Did you
ever have a private secretary?"
"Me?" called Jane. "I'm my own."
"Keep it that way," said Mrs. Bates, impressively. "Don't ever change--no
matter how many engagements and appointments and letters and dates you
come to have. You'll never spend a happy day afterwards. Tutors are bad
enough--but, thank goodness, my boys are past that age. And men servants
are bad enough--every time I want to stir in my own house I seem to have
a footman on each toe and a butler standing on my train; however, people
in our position--well, Granger insists, you know.
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