"I do not think that letter calls for any such remark," said Stephen Collins. He was rather aghast at Mr. Bell's words, knowing nothing of the stone Bessie had thrown into the waters. Mr. Bell gave him a very fixed stare, causing Stephen Collins' face to grow very red. "I think it is a splendid piece of work she points out, and one that we should in no wise pass by."
"I think we have quite enough work upon our hands already," remarked the chairman.
"Excuse me, sir," said Stephen, "I thought our duty was first to ascertain how much needed to be done, and then to confer how best it is to be accomplished. We are not here to do so much and no more."
"No one said we were," was the testy answer.
"It's a fine state of matters," remarked one member who always acted as echo to the secretary, "if we are to be told our duty by a woman."
"And by such a woman," remarked the secretary.
"What do you mean, sir?" demanded Stephen.
"Oh, I forgot she was a special friend of yours; I am very sorry if I offend"—this more blandly—"but I mean this: a woman whose husband was obliged to leave her, even forfeiting thereby a profitable business, and who is seen standing talking at the door of a low public-house, is not the kind of woman to do the Deborah act for us. That's what I mean," bringing his hand forcibly down upon the table. "Indeed, I know it for a fact that she was refused admittance as teacher to a certain Sunday School in the town, where she had offered her services."
"That is a libel upon a good Christian woman," protested Stephen.
"Gentlemen, I think we had better pass on to the next business," said the chairman.