The two walked on for a minute in silence. Finally, the clergyman remarked, “Samuel, you take a great interest in social questions.” “Yes, sir,” said the boy. “You see, I have been down at the bottom, and I know how it feels. Nobody else can possibly understand--not even you, sir, with all your kind heart. You don't know what it means, sir--you don't know what it means!” “Perhaps not, my boy,” said the other. “But my conscience is far from easy, I assure you. The only thing is, we must not be too impatient--we must learn to wait--” “But, doctor!” exclaimed Samuel. “Will the people wait to starve?” That question was a poser; and perhaps it was just as well that Dr. Vince was nearing the steps of his home. “I must go in now, Samuel,” he said. “But we will talk about these questions another time.” “Yes, sir,” said Samuel, “we will.” And the other glanced at him quickly. But the boy's face wore its old look of guileless eagerness. CHAPTER XVII Samuel walked away, still pondering at the problem. Something must be done about Master Albert, that was certain. Before he went in to his dinner he had thought of yet another plan. He would appeal to Miss Gladys about it! He would get her to labor with the prodigal! At eight o'clock the next morning, he and Sophie called at Miss Wygant's home. They went to the servants' entrance, and the maid who opened the door sent them away, saying that Miss Gladys never rose until ten o'clock and would not see anyone until eleven. So they went home again and came at eleven; and they were taken to a sitting room upon the second floor and there Miss Gladys met them, clad in a morning gown of crimson silk. “And so this is Sophie!” she exclaimed. “Why you poor, poor child!” And she gazed at the little mill girl with her stunted figure and pinched cheeks, and her patched and threadbare dress; and Sophie, in her turn, gazed at the wonderful princess, tall and stately, glowing with health and voluptuous beauty. “And you work in our cotton mill!” she cried. “How perfectly terrible! And do you mean to tell me that this child is thirteen years old, Samuel?” “Yes, Miss Gladys,” said he. She turned quickly and pressed a button on the wall. “Send Mrs. Harris here,” she said to the man who answered. “Mrs. Harris is our housekeeper,” she added to Samuel. “I will consult her about it.” The “consulting” was very brief. “Mrs. Harris, this is Sophie Stedman, a little girl I want to help. I don't know what she can do, but you will find out. I want her to have some sort of a place in the house--and it mustn't be hard work.” “But, Miss Gladys,” said the other in perplexity, “I don't know of anything at all!” “You can find something,” was the young lady's reply. “I want her to have a chance to learn. Take her downstairs and have a talk with her about it.” “Yes, Miss Gladys,” said Mrs. Harris; and so Samuel was left alone with his goddess.