"That would be hard on our workers. They like their privacy. And then we would not like the mothers and their children so close to us. They would disturb us and we could not get the rest we need." Drusilla was quiet for a moment, drumming lightly on the table with her fingers. "I don't see how you can rest or sleep at night with a cry in your ears like that I jest heard from that mother. I'd sleep on a board by the side of the fence to let her get a chance to 'put her face in the grass' as she says. How can you talk about privacy and quiet when you see such misery and unhappiness as that I jest saw? No, don't stop me--" as she saw Mrs. Harris raise her flushed face and open her lips as if to speak--"I'm all wrought up. I'll hear that mother's cry and see her poor body bent over that table, and those babies settin' there workin' when they ought to be out playin' as long as I live. And you see them and hear them every day and yet can talk about havin' to have quiet and privacy! And you take the three best rooms in a house that's supported by people who think they are giving some poor Italian family an outin' in the country! You could all go in one room and that would mean that five or six more mothers could go; the woman we left up there could go--instead of keeping the rooms for women who have a nice place like your'n here." She looked with scorn around the cozily furnished room. "And you keep them for only one or two days a week! I can't talk, I'm all wrought up." Drusilla sat back in her chair and fanned herself with the book of views. The worker was aghast. She had not thought of any possible outcome except the one for which she had been planning. "But you see, Miss Doane, when we have a wing--" "I'd 'a' give you a wing, or two wings, or a whole batch of wings, if I hadn't seen them three rooms. How'd I know that you wouldn't take the best rooms for the rest of your workers; or perhaps your cook might need rest or privacy for a part of the week. No--" shaking her old head vigorously--"I'll build my own wings where I can watch 'em." She rose then. "I must be goin'. Will you send for Daphne? I want to think about what I can do for that family. I'll give her my own room if I have to, but she's goin' to the country!" Daphne came in soon, and looked quickly at Drusilla's flushed, excited face. "Did you have a nice time, Miss Doane? Isn't it a wonderful work?" "Yes, I had a lovely time, and I learnt a lot. Thank you so much for your tea, Mis' Harris. I'm real glad I come." And before the chagrined hostess could find words in which to try to rectify her mistake, Drusilla was in the motor. Daphne looked at the angry old lady curiously. "Weren't you interested, Miss Doane? Aren't you going to help the Settlement? They need money so badly for their summer home--"