“Molly’s not at home. Won’t you come in and wait, dear? It’s seldom so purty a face comes our way. An’ I should know you was a born lady just by your walk. Do sit down, miss,” and she wiped a chair with her ragged dress, after the most approved style.
Bell was on tiptoe at once. Here was just the opportunity.
“Would you like to hear a chapter from the Bible?”
“Sure, wouldn’t I? It’s long since the likes of me has been that lucky. You have beautiful eyes, miss, and such a lovely complexion!”
Bell, highly gratified, selected the one hundred and nineteenth Psalm.
“How beautifully you read!” exclaimed her listener when she had finished. “Haven’t you a bit of loose change a body could buy a sup of tea with? What with the hard times, it’s meself hasn’t tasted tea for months, an’ you see how the old room looks.”
“Yes, indeed,” said Bell, dignifiedly. “I was just thinking how much better it would be if only the windows were washed and those shelves cleared up. Your dress, too, is very ragged, and it doesn’t take money to keep ourselves clean and neat. I am not allowed to drink tea, and—”
Presto! what a change! Bell was glad to get out of hearing.
“Is that you?” called Jenny King, from across the street. “How do you make out?”
“I’ve called at four houses,” returned Bell, evasively.