Again his deeply thoughtful gaze bore upon me.

"I'm puzzled," he said,—"honestly puzzled. I don't know whether she'll be good for this town or not. She may in a way—and in a way she may not. She will be disturbing,—I can see that already,—but she is stimulating. She may stir us up to nobler endeavors."

"Did she say so?"

"Well—uh—something of the sort. I believe that was the expression she used. I'll tell you what you do. You come along with me and see the lady right now. They've had dinner by this time."

Together we went and were presently climbing the stairs that led to the second floor of the City Hotel.

Mrs. Potts received us graciously. Upon me she bestowed a glance of friendly curiosity, as does a kind physician who waits to be told of symptoms before prescribing. Upon Solon she bent a more knowing look, as upon one whose frailties have already been revealed. She gave us chairs and she talked. Little Roscoe Potts writhed near by upon an ottoman and betrayed that he, too, could talk when circumstances were kindly. The detail of their personalities, salient in that first moment, was that Heaven had denied them both the gift of reticence.

"Yes—I've been telling Mr. Denney—I feel that there is a work here for me," she began briskly. "I felt it strongly when I perused the columns of the newspaper which Mr. Denney was thoughtful enough to send me."

Solon's eyes uneasily sought the cabbage-like flowers in the faded carpet of the room.

"And I feel it more strongly now that I have ventured among you," continued the lady, glowing upon us both.

"I have long suspected that it was a regrettable waste of energy to send missionaries into heathen parts of the globe when there remain so many unenlightened corners in our own land. It almost seems now as if I had been guided here. It is true that my husband has gone, but that shall not distress me. Rodney is a drifter—I may say a natural-born drifter, and I cannot undertake to follow him. I shall remain here. I have been guided—" determination gleamed in her gray-green eyes,—"I shall remain here and teach these poor people to make something of themselves."