She wished to be allowed to enter Tinker's service again.

She was, she said, alone in the world once more, for her husband, having spent all her savings, had with determined Scotch thriftiness incontinently died, and left her to shift for herself.

She had been making a mean living as an ironer in a Parisian laundry, when Alexander McNeill had sent for her to Apricale to help him deliver a young lady from the Jesuits; and she saw in her curious meeting with Tinker, at the country seat of the young Monteleone, the finger of Providence pointing the way back to her old situation.

Would he lay the matter before his father, and support her petition?
Tinker was somewhat taken aback, and said, "But I'm too old for a nurse." "Oh, there are lots of things I could do, Master Tinker.

There are really," said Selina.