“Private griefs, however acute, must give way to public duties. Mrs. Judson, you will never believe how many thousands and thousands of tracts I have delivered from door to door when my heart was swelling with anguish. It was a relief; yes, I must confess, it was a relief.” Mrs. Green unfolded her little handkerchief, and shook it out as if she still meditated a few tears; but Mrs. Brown took her up with such vigor that she forgot all about it. “You are right; such duties are a relief. But when you have money to raise, applications for help crowding on you, obligations to take up, in short, when you are called upon to accomplish a great work with insufficient means, as I was about to explain to Mrs. Judson, there is great need of Christian fortitude to carry one through.” “But I do have such trouble, madam,” answered Mrs. Green, firing up in behalf of her especial mission. “You don’t suppose that tracts are printed without money. Why, this moment our Society is in debt, kept back from entire usefulness, for the want of means; we are poor, absolutely poor; but for the generous aid we expect from this charity ball of which Mrs. Judson is a patroness, and, I must say, an ornament, we should have been dreadfully crippled.” Here Mrs. Brown seated herself and used her fan with emphasis. “Really,” she said, looking at Mrs. Judson, “the cause of the Lord is beset with difficulties. It seems to me that every society in New York, chartered or private, is coming upon us. At this rate, fifty balls would hardly count. I am discouraged.” Mrs. Green flushed scarlet, but Mrs. Judson merely waved her fan a little quicker. “There will be a great many private charities to meet. Each of the lady patronesses has a list,” she said quietly. “Yes, I have heard so,” Mrs. Brown retorted; “women who have done them services either as toadies or favorites. That is understood among the knowing ones.” “Madam!” Mrs. Judson seemed at least three inches taller than she had been a moment before, and her moire-antique rustled ominously in all its voluminous folds. “I hear,” said Mrs. Brown, in no way daunted, “that there is not the president of a single moral reform or really benevolent society on the committee.” “I believe not,” answered Mrs. Judson with cold dignity; “but there is no reason why any or all of these societies should not unite and raise all the funds they can. We certainly do not prevent them.” “Certainly not! certainly not!” said Mrs. Green, who was determined on securing whatever was to be attained by flattery and persuasion. “Only, you know, it would be useless to attempt it, after your brilliant success; what could we do but creep after you at a very humble distance? The truth is, we must depend on the country,—there our reports have a beautiful effect,—and upon the justice of your committee, all composed of ladies lifted beyond the idea of favoritism.”