After she had regained her composure, wiping her eyes, Pamela ventured a question.
'How come you're being so nice to me? How could you possibly want someone like me to . . . to work for you? To live at your house?'
Mrs. Dewhurst gave her a humorously evasive look as she resumed her seat. 'Ah, that would be telling. You know, I don't believe I'm going to tell you. I'll leave you to figure that one out for yourself. My reasons for not telling you, and the reasons I want you, and you specifically, will become clear to you in time. If I were to make my thoughts plain to you . . . well! That would rather spoil things. And, yes, you heard me correctly. There's no need to look so shocked! The job is yours if you want it. Now come, you've hardly made a dent in those wonderful sandwiches I made, and there's a plateful of cookies that need to be eaten lest they go to waste. You stay here and fill yourself up, and I'll call my son and tell him we'll be catching the first plane in the morning.'
'Your son?'
Mrs. Dewhurst rolled her eyes in what may have been mock exasperation. 'Yes, my son, Theo, short for "Theodore." Some of his friends used to call him "Ted." He's partly the reason I came here looking for someone like you. Only I did one better. Instead of getting someone like you, I got you. Never mind my rather oblique sense of humour, my dear. Indulge me. Now, Theo is an active man; too active for my ageing domestic staff, most of whom have been with us forever, so that the place more resembles a retirement home full of doddering old fuddy-duddies. But Theo . . . he manages my estates and my business affairs . . . I'm sure I don't know what I'd do without him. But he needs some . . . assistance, and some distraction as well. By the by, do you type?'
'Just a little,' Pamela admitted, able for the first time to manage some confidence. 'I helped out a lot with the Mission's correspondence. But I can only do about forty-five words a minute. Mrs. Gilroy- she showed me how to type. She's a real secretary. I've been told she can type about seventy-two words a minute.'
'Well, it seems you have some genuine talent after all!' Mrs. Dewhurst smiled. 'Forty-five words is about twice as fast as Theo can manage. He uses the "hunt-and-peck" method. That clinches it! You're coming with me, and that's all there is to it. I'll have someone collect your things-'