Bella was laughing gaily as she spoke, and so was Christie as she replied:
“That’s just what I want you to do with your patients. Dress up their minds in their best; get them out into the air; and cure their ills by the magnetism of more active, earnest lives.”
They talked over the new plan with increasing interest; for Christie did not mean that Bella should be one of the brilliant women who shine for a little while, and then go out like a firework. And Bella felt as if she had found something to do in her own sphere, a sort of charity she was fitted for, and with it a pleasant sense of power to give it zest.
When Letty and her mother came in, they found a much happier looking guest than the one Christie had welcomed an hour before. Scarcely had she introduced them when voices in the lane made all look up to see old Hepsey and Mrs. Wilkins approaching.
“Two more of my dear friends, Bella: a fugitive slave and a laundress. One has saved scores of her own people, and is my pet heroine. The other has the bravest, cheeriest soul I know, and is my private oracle.”
The words were hardly out of Christie’s mouth when in they came; Hepsey’s black face shining with affection, and Mrs. Wilkins as usual running over with kind words.
“My dear creeter, the best of wishes and no end of happy birthdays. There ’s a triflin’ keepsake; tuck it away, and look at it byme by. Mis’ Sterlin’, I’m proper glad to see you lookin’ so well. Aunt Letty, how’s that darlin’ child? I ain’t the pleasure of your acquaintance, Miss, but I’m pleased to see you. The children all sent love, likewise Lisha, whose bones is better sense I tried the camfire and red flannel.”
Then they settled down like a flock of birds of various plumage and power of song, but all amicably disposed, and ready to peck socially at any topic which might turn up.
Mrs. Wilkins started one by exclaiming as she “laid off” her bonnet:
“Sakes alive, there’s a new picter! Ain’t it beautiful?”