"Linda's just going to fill the child's head full of notions and make her discontented," she declared.
"Perhaps she has been more discontented than you realized," suggested Mrs. Porter. "Anyway, Miss Barry," she added, stopping the machine and looking up, "I fancy we are more interested in Linda than in any one else just now. Aren't we?"
"Well, of course, we are," acknowledged Miss Barry grudgingly, realizing whither the admission tended.
"To provide her with a wholesome interest is no small matter."
Miss Barry sniffed. "I don't know how wholesome it is. Blanche Aurora's as insubordinate a young one as ever lived. I'd hate to have her think any more of herself than she does already. All these expensive clothes now, and then next winter, nothing. That ain't going to help her mother any."
"That black-and-white checked suit can be made warm," returned Mrs. Porter, beginning to stitch the hem of the pink dress.
"What started her on it, anyway?" asked Miss Barry. "'Taint a mite like anything I ever knew of Linda."
Mrs. Porter smiled at her work for a silent space.
"Linda has been born again in some ways," she said at last. "In the school of this world you must have noticed that if people's eyes are not opened by truths vital to right living, they have to learn by suffering. Linda has suffered greatly. It has softened her heart. In this little experience right here she shows she longs to do something for another: to make the lot of another happier. This humble little girl happens to be to her hand."
"Humble! Not so you'd notice it," commented Miss Barry.