The lady looked around the wretched room in vain, for a shelf or table on which to deposit the contents of her basket. At last she saw a closet, and while placing the articles of food in it, talked to old Hoden as if he had been the most respectable man in the county.
"Is Tom at home, Mr. Hoden?"
"What d'ye want of him? I never know where he is."
"I heard you ought to be a Catholic," continued Mrs. Allen, "and I thought you would not object to Tom's coming to my catechism class on Sunday."
"He ain't got no clothes fit to go; besides I reckon it wouldn't do no good to send him, for he ain't never seen the inside of a church."
"Well, Mr. Hoden, couldn't you come yourself?"
"It is me, ma'am? I haven't been near a church or priest for twenty-five years. Poor Molly tried to make me go, but she gave it up as a bad job. You may try your hand on Tom for all I care."
"I am much obliged to you for giving me leave to try," said Mrs. Allen, smiling; "I should not have asked Tom to come without your permission, Mr. Hoden. Good-bye, sir."
The poor wretch seemed dazed, and did not reply to the lady's polite leave-taking.