"Oh! it must be lovely to have everything you want," sighed Kate, under her breath.
Poor Kate! She was alone in the world, making the best of life with her talent for music and through a mutual friend had been introduced to Mrs. Hayden, who, after hearing her play, immediately engaged her for Mabel, and always invited her to the parties, more as a musical attraction, than out of any real regard, for Mrs. Hayden had an abundance of friends without troubling herself to cultivate in any warm fashion, the friendship of a poor little music teacher, thought Kate, somewhat bitterly.
"But after all, Kate, life would need more than luxuries to make it my ideal of happiness. I should want every human being to be agreeably employed; every woman, no matter how much or how little she might have, should be occupied with something that she could put her heart into and speak to the world through her work, whether it be painting pictures or darning stockings."
"Now Gracious, you are riding your hobby and you ought to see you can't ride with all these fine people in your path. Come down at once or I'll desert you! Let's go in and hear that waltz," and Kate laughingly pulled the hobby-rider into the path that led to the conservatory where they could listen to the music.
"What a beautiful home Mrs. Hayden has!" said Mrs. Ferris to her neighbor with the severe collar and plain hair, as they examined the exquisite frescoing on the parlor ceiling.
"Yes, but she ought to look into poor homes once in a while. She don't use her money in the right way. Just think of the good she might do for our church, if she would contribute to the charity fund, or take some poor families to look after."
The fat neck folded itself over the severe collar and the face settled into rigid lines of judgment. Mrs. Dyke was a practical woman and talked in a practical way. Being a wonderful church worker she naturally considered it everybody's duty to give when they did not work for the cause of religion. She belonged to the First Methodist Church on High St., and talked about "our church" as though there were no other.
Mrs. Ferris was at a loss. She had said something that had not brought forth a pleasant result. She merely wished to be sociable, and what more convenient topic than these beautiful surroundings? She was a meek little woman, who always wanted to say something agreeable or soothing, and she felt quite frightened at the mistake she had made. She wished somebody would come to the rescue, but there was no immediate prospect, and she scarcely knew how to proceed again, but ventured to ask if there were many poor people who needed attention now.
"Yes, indeed there are no less than fifteen families in the mission quarter nearest Mrs. Hayden who would consider it a privilege to pick up the crumbs from her table, and I am afraid she'll have to give an account some time when the reckoning day comes, for those who have not 'given cups of cold water, or visited the sick languishing in prison.'"
The air almost trembled with a suggestion of something. Little Mrs. Ferris looked longingly towards the door and just then spied her husband who was seeking her. After she was gone, Mrs. Dyke looked grimly about, and not finding any one to listen, she relapsed into a meditative silence. People always wondered what made Mrs. Dyke so popular that she received an invitation to every aristocratic party, but it was according to the old adage, "Where there is a will there is a way."