“And then,” continued the janitress, “she asked me: ‘Mrs. Brown, do you think that you would send your own sister to a hospital, under such circumstances, if you had the means of taking care of her at home?’ I was forced to confess that I would not. Then she said: ‘No more will I send this poor sister woman away from me while I have, as I certainly now have, the means of taking care of her at home, even though it is but a temporary home.’ And then what do you think that angel of yours did, sir?”
“Something equally quixotic, I suppose.”
“She gave up her own elegant parlor to the invalid and the child. She supplied them with every possible comfort and luxury. She engaged the best medical attendance the city could supply, and she nursed the woman herself, both night and day; and not only nursed her, but read to her, talked to her, and entertained and amused her. I do believe she would have taken her to Florida to try to save her life if she had been able to travel. She was all in all to that young woman as long as the poor thing lived.”
“What detained Miss Fronde so long here?”
“That young woman did. Miss Fronde meant to have gone to the country in December, but the poor, sick creature was not able to travel, so the young lady stayed here with her. The woman got so much better in her new, luxurious quarters, with the skillful medical treatment and the tender nursing and cheerful companionship, that Miss Fronde began to talk about taking her to the country as soon as the spring should open, if she should then be able to travel. And I know that the poor widow looked forward to going there as to going to Paradise. I don’t think, however, that there are many young beauties and heiresses spending a winter in Washington who would have given up all society for the sake of nursing a poor, consumptive fellow creature.”
“It was very extravagant benevolence,” said Hanson.
“So I told her. ‘Miss Fronde,’ I said, ‘if you mean to do for every forlorn human being all that you are doing for this mother and child, you will have your hands full, and need the fortune of Vanderbilt ten times told.’”
“What did she say to that?” inquired Hanson.
“Oh, sir, she looked at me with such a grave, sweet smile, and said:
“‘But I am not required to “do” for all the “forlorn.” The poor are freely distributed around and about the rich throughout the world. Every one who has the power to relieve is responsible for the suffering that comes under his notice. Just at present I am only required to take care of these two poor, helpless creatures. I do not find them a grievous burden, I assure you. The Lord has not demanded of me more than I can well perform.’”