Man and Maid

Maurice brought Miss Sharp to-day to interview me. I do not like her

much, but the exhibition she gave me of her speed and accuracy in

short-hand satisfied me and made me see that I should be a fool to look

further. So I have engaged her. She is a small creature, palish with

rather good bright brown hair--She wears horn rimmed spectacles with

yellow glasses in them so I can't see her eyes at all. I judge people by

their eyes. Her hands look as if she had done rather a lot of hard

work--they are so very thin. Her clothes are neat but shabby--that is

not the last look like French women have--but as if they had been turned

to "make do"--I suppose she is very poor. Her manner is icily quiet. She

only speaks when she is spoken to. She is quite uninteresting.

It is better for me to have a nonentity--then I can talk aloud my

thoughts without restriction. I am to give her double what she is

getting now--2000 francs a month--war price.

Some colour came into her cheeks when I offered that and she hesitated, I said "Don't you think it is enough?"

She answered so queerly.

"I think it is too much, and I was wondering if I would be able to

accept it. I want to."

"Then do."

"Very well--I will of course do my very best to earn it"--and with that

she bowed and left me.

Anyhow she won't make a noise.

Nina writes since she has married Jim--which she did just before the

offensive in March--she has been too happy--or too anxious, to remember

her friends--even dear old ones--but now fortunately Jim is wounded in

the ankle bone which will keep him at home for two months so she has a

little leisure.

"You can't think, Nicholas, what a different aspect the whole war took

on when I knew Jim was in the front line--I adore him--and up to now I

have managed to keep him adoring me--but I can see I'll have to be

careful if he is going to be with me long at a time."

So it would seem that Nina had not obtained the rest and security she

hoped for.

I hope my writing a book will rest me. I have arranged all my first

chapter in my head--and to-morrow I begin.

June 26th--Miss Sharp came punctually at ten--she had a black and

white cotton frock on--There is nothing of her--she is so slight--(a

mass of bones probably in evening dress--but thank goodness I shall not

see her in evening dress,) she goes at six--She is to have her lunch

here--Burton has arranged it. An hour off for lunch which she can have

on a tray in the small salon, which I have had arranged for her work

room.--Of course it won't take her an hour to eat--but Burton says she

must have that time, it is always done. It is a great nuisance for

perhaps when 12:30 comes I shall just be in the middle of an inspiration

and I suppose off she'll fly like the housemaids used when the servants'

hall bell went at home. But I can't say anything.