“I don't think you old, mother, not a bit of it. You ought to have twenty or thirty years of life before you, real life.”
“That's just what I'm feeling,” said Mrs. Bell, “as if I'd just begun to live! This is so different! There is a big, moving thing to work for. There is—why Diantha, you wouldn't believe what a comfort it is to me to feel that my work here is—really—adding to the profits!”
Diantha laughed aloud.
“You dear old darling,” she said, “I should think it was! It is making the profits.”
“And it grows so,” her mother went on. “Here's this part so well assured that you're setting up the new Union House! Are you sure about Mrs. Jessup, dear?”
“As sure as I can be of any one till I've tried a long time. She has done all I've asked her to here, and done it well. Besides, I mean to keep a hand on it for a year or two yet—I can't afford to have that fail.”
Mrs. Jessup was an imported aunt, belonging to one of the cleverest girls, and Diantha had had her in training for some weeks.
“Well, I guess she's as good as any you'd be likely to get,” Mrs. Bell admitted, “and we mustn't expect paragons. If this can't be done by an average bunch of working women the world over, it can't be done—that's all!”
“It can be done,” said the girl, calmly. “It will be done. You see.”
“Mr. Thaddler says you could run any kind of a business you set your hand to,” her mother went on. “He has a profound respect for your abilities, Dina.”