"There we hung our harps upon the willows," added Ruth, throwing her shawl on a branch overhead. "Now, Agnes, let us take it easy and make the most of the day, for such days will be like angel's visits."
"Well, suppose we rest first. Methinks I could forget myself in sleep."
Presently Ruth was accosted with, "I think I know now what I should do if I were rich."
"What?" she asked.
"Take sick people into the country. That is, if I could afford to keep a carriage. I have been thinking about it since yesterday."
Ruth knew what had brought it to her mind. Guy's picture of the women and their babies; sick, of course.
"Yes," she said. "Many of those who die every year might become strong and well again, if they could be taken from the close, stifling air of their wretched homes into that which is pure and fresh."
"Nothing could give greater pleasure than to have these poor, emaciated babies and wan-faced women look up at you with a smile, as if saying, 'O how this cheers us.' I wonder if it will ever be?"
"'Tis hard to tell," was the reply. "But suppose you had a carriage, your husband might object to your using it in this way."
"Then I should not use it at all." Here Agnes looked as if at that time rejecting its use.