"I wouldn't cry, Mary!" Pippin spoke quietly, as he would to a child. "You would!" Mary flashed round upon him. "You'd cry your eyes out, and wish you had more to cry out! I've been a wicked, wicked girl! Oh, Mrs. Aymer! Oh, dear! Oh, dear! No, my kind lady, don't stop me, for it has to come out. He took me--my Pippin took me--down--down to those dreadful places where he used to live. I went into a cellar, dark and cold--oh! and there was a little child, all thin and cold and dirty, not clothes enough to cover him; and bruises on his little flesh! Oh, my heart! And Pippin said--Pippin said--'That might be me, Mary!' Oh, Mrs. Aymer! Oh, Mr. Hadley! _It might have been me, too!_ It all came back. I remember--I remember--" The sobs choked her, but she fought them back fiercely, and went on, struggling for utterance, still clasping and unclasping those eager hands. "He showed me more, but that was enough. I says to myself, 'Who am I, to turn him from his own work? Who am I, to come between him and the Lord? No! no!" She turned, and held out her hands with a passionate gesture. Pippin stepped forward and clasped the hands in his. "We're going to work together!" said Mary Blossom. She spoke quietly now, though the sobs still tried to break out. "I'm going to follow him, help him, serve with him, every minute of my life from now on. He will do all the real work, everything that counts; but I can cook, and mend, and--oh, Mrs. Aymer, I can wa-wa-wash for them!" She caught Pippin's hand to her lips, then flung it away and ran out. A silken flutter, and Lucy Aymer was after her like a flash. There was a tempestuous rustle of petticoats, and the sound of sobs and cooing; then silence. The three men looked at one another. Presently John Aymer drew a long breath. "So _that's_ all right!" he said. "One to you, Parson!" The chaplain laughed, a contented little laugh. "Very handsome of you, Jack!" he said. "What do you say, Pippin? Is it all right?" "It is, sir!" Pippin raised his head, which had been bent for a moment. "Yes, Elder, and Boss--I would say Mr. Aymer, sir; it is all right. I knew it would be; I never had no fears. I knew as soon as Mary sensed it she'd realize how 'twas. Yes, sir, I took her down--" he named a certain quarter of the city--"and showed her. I didn't need to say a word, hardly. She saw; Mary saw! And now, Elder--" he turned to Lawrence Hadley, and his eyes kindled. "Lemme tell you! It's like you said. I've got to get edication. I'm not fit to take holt of kids yet--not yet--but I will be! I'd like to start right away, if agreeable to you. You say where to go, and I'll go, if I have to wheel myself in a barrer!" CHAPTER XXVI PIPPIN PRAISES THE LORD