"His mother is. It is a very sad case, the matron says. She is a widow, has no friends, and they think has only a few months to live. And she is so desperately anxious about what will become of this child. Aunt Mary—"
"Yes, Margaret,—"
"Would it be foolish and Quixotic in me to take him? I have more money than I shall ever need for myself. And Philip has his own. How could I ever use my surplus better than to give this child a chance in life?"
"It might be foolish, Margaret, as the world counts wisdom, but it would be a Christ-like folly. 'Inasmuch as ye have done it unto one of the least of these, ye have done it unto me.'"
Later she said, fearing that she had given undue encouragement, "Margaret, don't do this thing hastily or without sufficient consideration. You would want in the first place to find out all about his antecedents. I should go to see the mother. You don't want a child with bad blood."
"He is not responsible for his blood," Margaret said quickly.
"No, but you would rather it would be good."
"You quoted Christ's words a moment ago. Do you suppose he ever inquired into people's blood before he helped them?"
"No, I don't. But—" with a wisdom born of a study of the world, not of the Scriptures—"it will pay you to do it.... Then you ought to find out whether he and Philip like each other. Children have as strong likes and dislikes as grown people."
"It is partly on Philip's account that I want to take him. They would be companions. Besides—oh, Aunt Mary, if the next trial should fail—the house is so frightfully still."