“I wanted to speak to you,” she said, falteringly at first, but with a resolution to have it all out, “about that vacant house in the back yard here. It looks as if it had been a carpenter’s shop last, and it seems in very bad repair.” “I suppose it might as well come down,” broke in Miss Wilcox. “Still, I--” “Oh, no! that wasn’t what I meant!” protested Jessica. “I--I wanted to propose something about it to you. If--if you will be seated, I can explain what I meant.” The two ladies took chairs, but with a palpable accession of reserve on their countenances. The girl went on to explain: “To begin with, the factory-girls and sewing-girls here spend too much time on the streets--I suppose it is so everywhere--the girls who were thrown out when the match factory shut down, particularly. What else can they do? There is no other place. Then they get into trouble, or at any rate they learn slangy talk and coarse ways. But you can’t blame them, for their homes, when they have any, are not pleasant places, and where they hire rooms it is almost worse still. Now, I’ve been thinking of something--or, rather, it isn’t my own idea, but I’ll speak about that later on. This is the idea: I have come to know a good many of the best of these girls--perhaps you would think they were the worst, too, but they’re not--and I know they would be glad of some good place where they could spend their evenings, especially in the winter, where it would be cosey and warm, and they could read or talk, or bring their own sewing for themselves, and amuse themselves as they liked. And I had thought that perhaps that old house could be fixed up so as to serve, and they could come through the shop here after tea, and so I could keep track of them, don’t you see?” “I don’t quite think I do,” said Miss Tabitha, with distinct disapprobation. The other lady said nothing. Jessica felt her heart sink. The plan had seemed so excellent to her, and yet it was to be frowned down. “Perhaps I haven’t made it clear to you,” she ventured to say. “Oh, yes, you have,” replied Miss Tabitha. “I don’t mind pulling the house down, but to make it a rendezvous for all the tag-rag and bob-tail in town--I simply couldn’t think of it! These houses along here have seen their best days, perhaps, but they’ve all been respectable, always!” “I don’t think myself that you have quite grasped Miss Lawton’s meaning.” It was the low, full, quiet voice of the beautiful fur-clad lady that spoke, and Jessica looked at her with tears of anxious gratitude in her eyes. Miss Minster seemed to avoid returning the glance, but went on in the same even, musical tone: