“Why, Clarence! How happy you look.”
“That’s because I’m a hypocrite, Father.”
“Surely, you haven’t come to bid me good-bye?”
“Oh, I should hope not, Father.” Here Clarence fumbled in his pocket. “This is a letter my Pa gave me to bring to you.”
“So you were godfather for Dorcas and her children!”
“Yes, Father Rector, and Dora was godmother. Pa says it was awful good of you to pay the expenses of Ben’s burial and to pay for the board of Dorcas and her little ones; but he’s going to do the rest. He has an interest in the ranch in the Southwest, and they need a woman to feed the men and keep the house. Dorcas gets the position.”
“Can she hold it?” asked the Rector.
“Oh, yes! Dora says that Dorcas cooks nicely and is fine at the needle, and is very neat.”
“I hope she’ll have a chance to go to church,” continued Father Keenan.
“There’s a church ten miles from the ranch; and the foreman is a good Catholic. He is to bring Dorcas every Sunday.”