"Why, having that class of women in your house, and the children on the lawns, will certainly take away from their artistic beauty." "Will it? Then it'll have to be not so artistic and more useful. Nothin' ain't beauty unless it's doin' something fer somebody, and God didn't intend no sixty acres of His land to be lyin' here jest fer me and a lot of rich people to admire, when women and children are pantin' fer air in hot tenements. And as fer the house, land knows it's big enough, and I feel like a lone pea in a tin can shakin' around loose in it, and I won't never need to see no one unless I want to. But I want to see 'em, I want to see life around me, and life that's bein' made a little happier because of Drusilla Doane. What do you suppose God give me all this big place fer, and all the money, if it wasn't to use fer His people?" "What shockin' ideas you have, Miss Doane, to bring God into the subject! You are most sacrilegious, dear Miss Doane." "Yes, I guess I am; most people seem to be afraid to mention Him." "But the neighbors are feeling very indignant that you are turning the show place of the country into an orphan asylum and a mother's home." Drusilla looked up quickly, as word had come to her of her neighbors' disapproval. "I don't see that it's none of their concern," she said. "But, you see, it lowers the value of their property." "Let 'em move away." "Oh, but they can't." "Well, let 'em stay." "But it's very annoying to see a lot of dirty children." "They won't be dirty children, and the neighbors don't need to look over the hedge if they don't want to. It's high enough." "I am just telling you what they say, Miss Doane. There was a meeting the other day of the people of Brookvale, and they decided to appoint a committee to wait upon you and express their disapproval of your actions, and request you to change your plans in some way." Drusilla looked over her glasses. "You don't tell me!" she ejaculated. "When be they comin'?" "Mr. Carrington, the chairman of the Committee, is coming to see you to-night, I am told." "Who's he?" "He lives in the big gray house near the river, and he feels very strongly on the subject." Drusilla said with asperity: "Well, he'll feel stronger when he leaves." Miss Lee felt that she had gone far enough on that subject, so she changed it. "Poor Mrs. Carrington! They feel very bad about children since they lost their little boy about a year ago." "How did they lose him?" "He died, and they have never recovered from the shock." "If they lost their child, I should think they'd want to see other children happy, then. They must be queer people." "It has changed them a great deal, as sorrow often does." "It hasn't changed them the right way, as true sorrow does. What've they done?"