Soon after this, one afternoon Miss Alice came into Mrs. Ashford's sitting-room, half laughing, and exclaimed as she sank into a chair, “Oh, Marty, how you and your mission work are getting me into business!”
“Why, how?” demanded Marty.
“Oh, those Torrences!” said Miss Alice, still laughing.
“What about them? Do tell us,” Marty insisted.
“Well, one day as I was going to see Jennie, I saw the two little girls younger than Jimmy on the stairs, and they did look so cold this kind of weather in their ragged calico frocks, and not much else on. So I just went home, got my old blue flannel dress, bought a few yards of cotton flannel, and took them to Mrs. Torrence to make some comfortable clothes for those poor children. And, Cousin Helen, will you believe it? I found the woman didn't know the first thing about cutting and making clothes!”
“That is very strange,” said Mrs. Ashford. “How has she been getting along all this time with such a family?”
“She depends on people giving her things, and on buying cheap ready-made clothing.”
“That is very thriftless.”
“Yes. But I've heard it is the way so many poor people do. A great many of those women work in factories or shops before they are married, and afterwards, too, sometimes, and they have no time to learn to sew. When I found out about Mrs. Torrence I thought I would offer to show her how to cut and make those things. I thought doing that would be far greater charity than making them for her would be.”
“So it would.”