“Yes; I understand she is,” said Grace without enthusiasm. “But we needn’t hold that against her.” And then, recalling Ethel’s complacent tone in mentioning any social recognition by her church friends, Grace remarked carelessly, “She’s invited me to dine with her tomorrow night. I’m to be the only guest. She seems to have a crush on me!”
At the midday dinner Ethel disclosed Miss Reynolds’ partiality for Grace with all impressiveness.
“Why, Grace!” exclaimed Mrs. Durland, “do you fully appreciate what that means?”
“It means that a very nice lady has invited me to share her dinner,” Grace answered.
“I hope you realize,” said Ethel, “what a great compliment that is. Why, she can do worlds for you!”
“Here’s hoping she keeps a good cook!” Grace retorted, irritated that they were attributing so much importance to what she preferred to look upon as no more than an act of spontaneous kindness in a generous hearted woman.
“Miss Reynolds represents the old conservative element here,” Mrs. Durland remarked in a tone that implied her deep reverence for that element of the population—“the people who always stood for the best things of life. Her father was a colonel in the Civil War. They always had money. A woman like that can make herself felt. Now that she’s back, I hope she’ll see that she has a work to do. She has no ties and with her position and wealth she can make herself a power for good in checking the evil tendencies so apparent in our city.”
“She’s so quaint; so deliciously old-fashioned,” added Ethel, “and you can see from her clothes that she’s an independent character. I’m going to ask Dr. Ridgely to invite her to take the chairmanship of our girl’s club committee.”
“That would be splendid, Ethel,” exclaimed Mrs. Durland, “perhaps you could say a word to her about it, Grace. You know better than Ethel the dangers and temptations of the girl wage-earner.”
“I don’t know why I should,” Grace replied. “Please don’t talk to me as though I had a monopoly of all the wickedness in the world.”