"Yes," hesitatingly; "and as I have known him for a great many years and know he is pretty straight and honest, I—as I said, ma'am—took the liberty of telling him you might see him, as you are so kind to so many that come here for help."
"Ssh—ssh—James; you mustn't talk about it. Tell him to come up."
Mrs. Carrington rose to go.
"No, don't go," begged Drusilla. "You know," looking around the room, "I'm just like a girl that's afraid of gettin' found out. I see a lot of people that I don't let Mr. Thornton know about. He tried to keep me from seein' any one who comes here in trouble, but I get around him. I see every one who comes. James has his orders from Mr. Thornton to keep 'em out, and he has his orders from me to let 'em in, and he's more afeered of me than he is of Mr. Thornton."
"But, my dear Miss Doane, I should think you would be worried to death."
"No, it keeps me alive. I got a chance to hear people's troubles and understand what they're fighting against, and I'm seein' life and gettin' a chance to help people in my own way."
"But don't they impose upon you? Aren't lots of the people dishonest?"
"Well, I don't do nothin' sudden. I hear 'em talk and then I git Dr. Eaton to find out if it's true; and he's a clever young man, Mis' Carrington—they're pretty sharp to git around him. We call it the Doane Eaton Associated Charities. But"—laughing—"I'm awful selfish in it. I like people, and I like to be in their lives, and if I done what Mr. Thornton wanted me to do, I'd set here and die of dry rot."
James entered then, followed by a little man who bowed awkwardly to Miss Doane.
"This is Mr. Henderson, Miss Doane," James said.