“You do not like my work?” she asked, gently.
“Like it,” repeated Betty vaguely, and then turned excitedly to the little woman. “Tell me,” she demanded. “Did you ever sell embroidery at the Woman’s Exchange in Kayford?”
The old lady seemed still more puzzled.
“Yes,” she answered. “I used to do a great deal of work for the Exchange before—before—my eyes became so bad. It is taxing, you know,” she finished, gently and uncomplainingly. “That sort of work.”
The girls exchanged wondering glances and then Betty explained to the little old lady how they had come to hear of her that day at the Woman’s Exchange.
“We’ve been wondering about you a great deal,” put in Amy, gently. “I’m very glad we have found you.”
“That is good of you, my dear,” said the old lady, with her grave smile. “You have been very, very good to an old woman.”
On the way back to camp that night the girls discussed their discovery excitedly.
“Who would ever have expected to find our poor old lady in the Old Maid of the Mountains?” marveled Amy. “It’s just like a story.”
“It’s a pretty sad story, just the same,” said Betty, gravely. “Think of that poor lonesome little soul deprived of her one small means of support because her eyes have failed! Oh, girls, I wish we could find a million dollars for her somewhere!”