“You are taken by the pretty face, like Brother Ezra, and are utterly ignorant of the mind within. Men are always like that in regard to a pretty woman,” said Madame scornfully.
“Beauty is a great power, no doubt,” admitted Brother Green, “but people may err just as widely by judging everything from the prejudiced point of view as by yielding too far to favourable impressions.”
“Brother Green,” said Uncle David earnestly, “I’m right glad you’re like me, you won’t believe nothin’ ’gainst little Ollie, will you, no more than I will?”
“I will hope for the best and that there may be some reasonable explanation of her disappearance,” said Brother Green, looking compassionately at the piteous old face that scanned his so eagerly for some scrap of comfort.
“I don’t see what explanation there can be but the one we have already received,” said Madame icily.
“Who will break this sorrowful news to Ezra?” asked Brother Green. “Will you do it, Uncle David? You would do it tenderly, as you have faith in her still.”
“No, no, I couldn’t bear to see the look o’ death in his eyes, an’ it ’ud come no matter how I told it, when I came to sayin’ little Ollie was gone an’ we didn’t know where.”
“I think perhaps I had best take this painful duty upon myself,” suggested Madame.
“Well, after all, maybe you are the best person. But remember to deal tenderly with him in his sorrow. You will know what to say to instil some hope into his heart,” said Brother Green sadly.
“An’ don’t you tell him she’s gone off with that man Cotterell, for she hain’t done no such thing,” said Uncle David anxiously. “You jes’ say we don’t know why she went away, an’ kinder hint as you’re expectin’ she’ll he home to-morrow or nex’ day. Do you understand?”