Well; plans grew fast as they always do when planners are anxious to do something. Long into the night they talked, and the very next day the work began. Nora captured a poor little girl who came to beg, and took her in to Miss Barnes, in spite of the horror of the servants. They found she had no parents, and decided to take her, and Nora went on to make her decent, with more pleasure than she had ever known.
So it went on; before the end of a month, Miss Barnes found herself more interested than she had been in anything. And Nora grew bright and happy as the months rolled by, and one after another wretched girl was gathered out of the streets and brought to a home.
As soon as one girl was trained and fitted to take a place in some one’s kitchen, or sewing-room, or nursery, a dozen places opened to her. By telling a little of her story, Miss Barnes interested her new mistress in the girl, who was thus started out in a useful, independent life.
This institution, though it never had a name, grew and flourished, and Nora still lives in the Barnes Home, manages the Barnes income, and “lends a hand” wherever needed.
“And that’s the story of how the Barnes Home came to be,” said Mrs. Wilson, in ending.
“And was that nice lady that you went to see about a maid,” cried Kristy eagerly, turning to her mother, “was she Nora?”
“Yes,” said her mother, “she was Nora.”
“That was fine!” said Kristy. “Thank you so much, Mrs. Wilson.”
“That story of a great charity, started through one poor girl,” said Mrs. Wilson, “reminds me of another that I heard lately; shall I tell it, Kristy?”