"I am interested in what he has done, and what you are doing. Please tell me about it." "Well, it goes back to my childhood. I was my grandfather's constant companion until I went to college. He is a well-known philanthropist of New England, interested in the poor, in convicts in prison and out, in temperance work, in the enfranchisement of woman, in education, and in everything that makes for righteousness." She paused. "And he discussed great questions with you?" "Yes, as though in counsel. He would tell me certain conditions, and ask me what I thought we had better do." "An ideal preparation for philanthropic service." He was serious now. "There awoke within me, very early, the purpose to serve my fellow men in the largest possible way. Grandfather fostered this; and when the time came for me to go to college, he helped me plan my course of study." She looked far away. "You followed it out?" "Very nearly. You see, Mr. Hastings, service is no accident with me. It dates back generations. It is in my blood." "Your blood is of the finest sort. Surely service does not mean living in close touch with immoral, disreputable people." Her eyes kindled, grew dark in color. "What _does_ it mean, then? The strong, the pure, the godly should live among men, teach by precept and example how to live, and show the loveliness of pure living just as Jesus did. I have visited prisons with grandfather, have prayed with and for criminals, and have sung in the prisons. Is it not worth while to help these wretched creatures look away from themselves to God?" "Oh, Miss Bright," he protested, "it is dreadful for a young girl like you even to hear of the wickedness of men." "Women are wicked, too," she responded seriously, "but I never lose hope for any one." "Some day hope will die out in your heart," he said discouragingly. "God forbid!" she spoke solemnly. In a moment she continued: "I am sure you do not realize how many poor creatures never have had a chance to be decent. Just think how many are born of sinful, ignorant parents, into an environment of sin and ignorance. They live in it, they die in it. I, by no will or merit of my own, received a blessed heritage. My ancestors for generations have been intelligent, godly people, many of them people of distinction. I was born into an atmosphere of love, of intelligence, of spirituality, and of refinement. I have lived in that atmosphere all my life. My good impulses have been fostered, my wrong ones checked." "I'll wager you were painfully conscientious," he said. "Why should I have been given so much," she continued, "and these poor creatures so little, unless it was that I should minister to their needs?" "You may be right." He seemed unconvinced. "But I am sure of one thing. If I had been your grandfather, and you my grandchild, I never would have let you leave me." He was smiling. "You should know my grandfather, and then you would understand."