"Why, what do _you_ know about it, except that poor people live in them, and the owners turn a penny on the rents?" "I know a good deal about them; for I've seen many such, both here and abroad. It was not all pleasure with us, I assure you. Uncle was interested in hospitals and prisons, and I sometimes went with him: but they made me sad; so he suggested other charities, that I could help about when we came home. I visited Infant Schools, Working-women's Homes, Orphan Asylums, and places of that sort. You don't know how much good it did me, and how glad I am that I have the means of lightening a little some of the misery in the world." "But, my dear girl, you needn't make ducks and drakes of your fortune trying to feed and cure and clothe all the poor wretches you see. Give, of course: every one should do something in that line, and no one likes it better than I. But don't, for mercy's sake, go at it as some women do, and get so desperately earnest, practical, and charity-mad that there is no living in peace with you," protested Charlie, looking alarmed at the prospect. "You can do as you please. _I_ intend to do all the good I can by asking the advice and following the example of the most 'earnest,' 'practical,' and 'charitable' people I know: so, if you don't approve, you can drop my acquaintance," answered Rose, emphasizing the obnoxious words, and assuming the resolute air she always wore when defending her hobbies. "You'll be laughed at." "I'm used to that." "And criticised and shunned." "Not by people whose opinion I value." "Women shouldn't go poking into such places." "I've been taught that they should." "Well, you'll get some dreadful disease and lose your beauty, and then where are you?" added Charlie, thinking that might daunt the young philanthropist. But it did not; for Rose answered, with a sudden kindling of the eyes as she remembered her talk with Uncle Alec,-- "I shouldn't like it: but there would be one satisfaction in it; for, when I'd lost my beauty and given away my money, I should know who really cared for me." Charlie nibbled his pen in silence for a moment, then asked, meekly,-- "Could I respectfully inquire what great reform is to be carried on in the old houses which their amiable owner is repairing?" "I am merely going to make them comfortable homes for poor but respectable women to live in. There is a class who cannot afford to pay much, yet suffer a great deal from being obliged to stay in noisy, dirty, crowded places like tenement-houses and cheap lodgings. I can help a few of them, and I'm going to try." "May I humbly ask if these decayed gentlewomen are to inhabit their palatial retreat rent-free?"