College teachers -- Fiction; Love stories; New England -- Fiction; Social workers -- Fiction
At this point the musicians swung into Home Sweet Home, and Mrs. Norris
hurried up to the embryonic workers. "The party is over now, my dears,
and please help by going and getting your things. It's this awful
standing around saying good-bye that is so trying," and with an emphatic
push of her back comb she began hauling tables and chairs back into
their normal places.
Tom had only just time to assure Nancy that he would do his part when
Mrs. Norris called to him again to help her with the dining-room rug;
and with a quick handshake and a pleasanter nod than he would have
thought could possibly have come to him half an hour before, Nancy
Whitman was gone.
VII
In the morning Nancy's thoughts flew to the proposed social work. What
on earth had she got herself into! Swept away, as usual, she had
confided her plans for a life of service to a man she barely knew, one
hour after she had decided to leave him alone! Well, there was nothing
to do now but make the best of it. Their talk had, as a matter of fact,
shown that she had been a little silly about the charade. He had
unsuspected depth. That had been made clear by his conversation about
education, and it was unlikely that anyone who felt as strongly as he
did could be wayward in a charade. So it might turn out all right, after
all, and she had better set about getting the workers.
Mary, to her surprise, was a disappointment. It seemed that with her
music, which she was studying seriously this year, with weekly trips to
Boston for a lesson, she had no time. Others of her friends to whom she
had naturally turned were unavailable for one reason or another, and the
affair began to look discouraging. On the fourth day, however, while
calling upon the Misses Forbes, she got an unsolicited recruit. Her mind
being full of the idea, she was talking about it before she knew it;
and to her astonishment, and a little to her dismay, Miss Jennie offered
her services. "I cannot," she said, "talk to the operatives about their
bodies, and, accordingly, it won't be necessary for me to attend the
physiological lectures, but I think I can be of use later on. When we
went to Miss Northcote's School we learned to weave mats and paint on
china, and I can give instructions in them. In their turn they will
instruct me, for I shall learn much about Housing Conditions and have an
opportunity to examine at first hand the various industrial problems of
the day. Who knows? when we are through, I may prepare a paper for the
_Nation_." Her sisters indicated their disapproval by rocking
hopelessly.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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