Mr. Smith grew very red—perhaps because he had to stop to cough again.
“Well, Miss Flora, I—I’m sorry, but I’m afraid I shall have to agree with Miss Maggie here, to some extent.”
“But you didn’t read the letter. You don’t know how beautifully he talked.”
“You told me; and you say yourself that he gave you only a post-office box for an address. So you see you couldn’t look him up very well.”
“I don’t need to!” Miss Flora threw back her head a little haughtily. “And I’m glad I don’t doubt my fellow men and women as you and Maggie Duff do! If either of you knew what you’re talking about, I wouldn’t say anything. But you don’t. You can’t know anything about this man, and you didn’t ever get letters like this, either of you, of course. But, anyhow, I don’t care if he ain’t worthy. I wouldn’t let those children suffer; and I—I’m glad I sent it. I never in my life was so happy as I was on the way here from the post-office this morning.”
Without waiting for a reply, she turned away majestically; but at the door she paused and looked back at Miss Maggie.
“And let me tell you that, however good or bad this particular man may be, it’s given me an idea, anyway,” she choked. The haughtiness was all gone now “I know now why it hasn’t seemed right to be so happy. It’s because there are so many other folks in the world that aren’t happy. Why, my chicken and turkey would choke me now if I didn’t give some of it to—to all these others. And I’m going to—I’m going to!” she reiterated, as she fled from the room.
As the door shut crisply, Miss Maggie turned and looked at Mr. Smith. But Mr. Smith had crossed again to the stove and was fussing with the damper. Miss Maggie, after a moment’s hesitation, turned and went out into the kitchen, without speaking.
Mr. Smith and Miss Maggie saw very little of Miss Flora after this for some time. But they heard a good deal about her. They heard of her generous gifts to families all over town.
A turkey was sent to every house on Mill Street, without exception, and so much candy given to the children that half of them were made ill, much to the distress of Miss Flora, who, it was said, promptly sent a physician to undo her work. The Dow family, hard-working and thrifty, and the Nolans, notorious for their laziness and shiftlessness, each received a hundred dollars outright. The Whalens, always with both hands metaphorically outstretched for alms, were loud in their praises of Miss Flora’s great kindness of heart; but the Davises (Mrs. Jane Blaisdell’s impecunious relatives) had very visible difficulty in making Miss Flora understand that gifts bestowed as she bestowed them were more welcome unmade.