Ben knew that Kate, since she had come of age, had spent no small share of her income in furthering schemes for the improvement of various poor people. Some of these schemes he fully approved; others seemed to him of doubtful value. Yet his disapproval, though he might not have admitted it to himself, was based on no firmer ground than his wish that Kate, as far as possible, should be spared the sight and knowledge of disagreeable things. Meeting her one day, "It seems to me that you are always running away from Miss Theodora's," he had said in a tone of mock reproof. "Oh, well, only when I go to my cooking class. You see, it's such fascinating work, and the new teacher doesn't get on with those children half as well as I do. She's a good teacher, but it's the human nature, the black human nature, that she does not exactly understand. When things are running smoothly I don't expect to see her more than once or twice a week." "Once or twice a week," echoed Ben, "about twice as often as you ought to inhale the odors of Phillips Street." "Oh, nonsense, you should see our room, as clean and bright as fresh paint and paper can make it, with its perfectly ideal arrangements in the shape of stove and dishes." Ben smiled, though not exactly in approval. Yet more and more he realized her power in the neighborhood. "See that new machine," said Miss Chatterwits, when he called on her one day, and she pointed proudly to a new combination of polished wood and shining metal. "Well, Kate bought me that. She gives me a good deal of fine sewing to do, and thought this machine would be handier than my old one, which I'd had--well, I won't say how long, but almost ever since they were first made. It had grown kind of rickety, and hadn't any modern improvements." "This one looks as if it could do almost everything," said Ben, glancing at it a second time. "Well, I do get a sight of comfort with it. Kate, or p'r'aps I ought to say Miss Digby, allows me so much a week, and expects to have all my time. She has me do white stitching for her,--which I always do by hand,--and make garments of various kinds for her poor people, which I do on the machine." Miss Chatterwits said "poor people" in a very dignified tone. She was never quite sure that she enjoyed sewing for these dependents. "You must be kept pretty busy, then," responded Ben. "Well, not so busy as I might be," she answered. "Some weeks there's very little for me to do. But I get my money just the same," she added quickly. "To tell you the truth, I guess Kate wanted to keep me out of the Old Ladies' Home, where I certainly should be living this very minute if she hadn't planned things out for me. Of course you wouldn't mention this to any one else;"--and she looked at Ben earnestly, for she suddenly remembered that the outside world did not know of this little arrangement. "Of course I won't mention it," said the young man; "but it's just like Kate, isn't it?"