“My dear, do you really think the house is in danger? Does it look like an orphan asylum or feel like a charity school?”
Then would Gracie Dennis laugh, but look a trifle vexed, nevertheless, and mutter that people couldn't do things that way in this world.
Then would Flossy be ready with her gentle drops of oil to soothe the ruffles.
“Gracie, dear, I am not trying to reform the world. There are a great many girls left destitute I know, and I will do at wholesale all I can for them; but this one is peculiar. You have admitted that it was unusual to see such dangerous beauty, and she is unusual in her mental development. She could be fierce and wicked; she is ignorant and bitter about many things; I am afraid for her. I have not been able to think of a place where the Lord Jesus would have me take her. I must see to it that He is pleased, you know, at all hazards. If He does not mean us to keep her in the shelter of our home for the present, we do not know what He means.
“We cannot 'mother' the whole race: He has not even suggested it to our hearts. He has simply said, 'Here, take this one; there is room for her; keep her until I plainly tell you that her place is elsewhere.' Gracie, would you have me tell Him we cannot?”
By this time Gracie would be humble and sweet.
“It is very good of you,” she would say, meekly, “and I was not thinking of such a thing as finding fault. I was only wondering whether—whether—well, you know—whether such a life as she is leading in your house would not unfit her for her proper sphere?”
But a sentence like that was always liable to put little Mrs. Roberts on all the dignity she possessed. Her husband had ideas on that subject, and had imbued her with them. Her voice could even sound almost haughty as she said:—
“As to that, Gracie, we must remember that the 'sphere' of an American woman is the one that she can fill acceptably in God's sight. He may call her to the highest; I don't know. Since she is the daughter of a King, there may be no spot on His footstool too high for His intentions concerning her.”
There was outside criticism, of course. Indeed, Mrs. Roberts was sufficiently peculiar in many respects to call for much criticism from the world. They talked much about “that girl” she had picked up. Gradually they said “that Colson girl”; then one day some daughter asked, “Is she really a sister of that handsome Mr. Colson in the store?” And by-and-by there were some who spoke of her as “Mattie Colson.” That was the name which Mrs. Roberts always called her. It began gradually to be known also that “Mattie Colson” knew a great deal which was worth knowing. Three years of companionship with a lady like Mrs. Roberts, and such as she gathers about her, can do much for a girl who wishes much done for her.