"It does me so much good to talk about you."
"I believe helping you gives me more pleasure than anything I do; so why
thank me for what I enjoy?"
"You won't mind your own kind talking about you coming to us, and doing
so much for the poor, will you?"
"Certainly not. While I am not dependent on my neighbors for my peace of
mind, I will come to see you two as often as I can do anything for you."
"I am glad to hear that; I don't get over one of your visits for days.
They brace me up to take hold of life, and do the best I can for father
and the children."
"I guess if folks does talk about you, they talked about one that was
better'n any of us. I was reading the other day about the respectable
ones in their days complaining how Christ eat with publicans and
sinners," Mrs. Blake said, giving me one of her strong encouraging
glances.
"Thank you, Mrs. Blake; after that I can brave any criticism."
A few days later I walked in the early afternoon to the Mill Road. Cook
had prepared some special dainties for Mrs. Larkum; so with a small lunch
basket on my arm I started on my errand of mercy.
I had been standing at my easel a good part of the forenoon, and the
satisfaction that comes from faithful work done, together with the
assurance from Mrs. Larkum that my visits carried with them something
better than sunshine, I trod swiftly over the frozen streets, quite
content with life and its developments. I met Dr. MacKenzie on the way.
He stopped to shake hands, and with an almost boyish eagerness, said:
"Have you heard the news?"
"Not anything special.
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